


Into The Unknown

by ArtNerdSarah



Series: Out of Time [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cosmic Horror Elements, F/M, M/M, Mysteries, No beta we die like archival assistants, Other, The Stranger’s Circus, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 22,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25049986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtNerdSarah/pseuds/ArtNerdSarah
Summary: An Inspector and an Archivist are stuck on a space ship.A Pirate is stuck in an archives.Disaster approaches.In the aftermath, can they survive?~~Minimal tags to avoid spoilers. Content warnings in the beginning notes for each chapterDon’t forget that the Crack Fic (“The Miscellaneous Adventures of Jonn and Jonn”) IS canon, and the continuity from that WILL impact the continuity of this. This work is NOT stand-alone. It's the third in a TRILOGY. Just keep that in mind, if you’re new to this series ✌️👍
Relationships: A lot of friendship & sibling bonds, Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim, Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Nastya Rasputina/The Aurora, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Out of Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771423
Comments: 461
Kudos: 260





	1. Insanity In Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> SO! First and foremost, the content warnings for the first chapter: Isolation, loneliness, loss of sanity, grief, discussions of death, s**cide attempt (extremely brief; by an immortal who doesn’t know they’re immortal yet)
> 
> Now, as it turns out, the guy I wanted to beta this fic is gonna be too busy, so I’ll be proofreading the chapters myself. I might not be able to catch anything, so if you spot a mistake, lemme know in the comments.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

Document Type: Utgard Orbital Police Report

Regarding: An unauthorized ship found in orbit around Utgard

Date: 732A—93Ω—Θ86ΦΞ—§4—1—B

Ship Type: Single-Passenger Travel

Ship Model: Unknown.

Ship Brand/Year: Unknown

Location of Origin: Unknown, likely alien in origin

Location Found: Orbiting Utgard

Ship Condition: Heavily damaged, likely unsalvageable. Appears to have been stripped of all previous cargo. Much of the ship itself has been torn apart, possibly for use of scrap metal.

Survivors: None

Bodies: None

Signs of Struggle: Yes. Several scuff marks that appear to indicate a person being dragged. Two bullet holes, each surrounded by a splatter of some unknown liquid. Difficult to tell if the liquid is blood as it appears to be alien in origin.

Black Box Condition: Physically undamaged, though much of the data is corrupted. Some data is still salvageable.

Black Box Content: Audio only, with gaps of completely unintelligible distortions.

Black Box Audio Transcript Below:

{Self Identified: Lyfrassir Edda}

Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda, New… [Deep inhale(?)] Formerly New Midgard Transport Police. First travel log.

Right. It has been three days {Solar cycle used is unknown.} since I left the Yggdrasil system, {“Yggdrasil” does not appear to exist in any database within a 200 system radius.} according to my computer.

I spent the first two days fretting over whether or not I managed to pack enough supplies for the journey, counting and recounting what I had in stock.

I have more than enough fuel to get me to the Hoddmimis mining colony. {“Hoddmimis” does not appear to exit in any database within a 200 system radius.} Even though I have more than enough food, as well, I intend to ration it.

What is rather unfortunate is that I was unable to reach the bank to gather my savings before fleeing. I’ll probably run out of money before I run out of food. Of course, given how far I’m planning to travel, who knows if that money would even be useful?

[Scoff(?)] Look at me. Complaining about leaving my money behind. Who am I to _complain_ when I’m _probably_ the only one who—

Oh gods… I’m the only one left, aren’t I?

[2 min 36 sec of audible sobbing]

It’s… been hitting in waves. One moment, I’m focusing on what I’ve packed, and the next I remember that everyone is probably dead. I…

I did have some books packed. I was planning on taking a vacation soon after investigating the Bifrost Incident, so I already had a suitcase packed. I suppose I should count myself lucky that I already had a bag packed.

I should count myself lucky that I made it out at all.

I… I think I’m going to do some reading for a while. Clear my head.

Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda singing off.

{Prolonged Distortion}

{Lyfrassir Edda}

Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda. Fifty… third travel log.

It has been roughly three and a half months since I left the Yggdrasil system. Still no news from any potential survivors. As far as I can tell, I’m the only one who made it out.

I, um… I still miss…

Trillions of people, and I—

Oh. _Oh._

I have no one to grieve. [5 sec of sad(?) laughter] I have no one to grieve! I had no loved ones! [12 sec of sad(?) laughter] Funny. You’d think I would have realized sooner. But it’s true. The last family I had left died years before I even became an inspector. I had no partner, certainly no kids… I didn’t even have any real friends.

[Deep inhale(?)] I have been trying to warn the planets I visit, but so far none have believed me. How could I possibly—? I have no proof, and—

[5 min 16 sec of audible sobbing]

I’ve stopped recording these every day. I…

I picked up some new books on the most recent planet. Traded out some of the old ones. I made sure to get the thickest ones I possibly could. With nothing else to do, I… tend to go through them much quicker now than I ever did back home.

That is… All I have to report, I suppose.

Inspector Class Lyfrassir Edda signing off.

{Prolonged Distortion}

{Lyfrassir Edda}

Edda, here. I have completely lost track of which travel log this is. My ship says it’s been… 32 years {Solar cycle used is unknown.} since I left Yggdrasil. I don’t look three decades older. I barely even look a year older.

The ship must be wrong.

I think I’ve gone somewhat mad? It’s hard to tell, since I have no one to confirm it with.

The shadows… They _move_. {There were no signs of any shadow creatures in the ship’s remains.}

of 

I won’t record these for a while. I’m going to go into a stasis sleep. It’s… less painful. The ship will wake me when we— [Deep inhale(?)] when _I_ reach a new planet.

Lyfrassir Edda signing off.

{Prolonged Distortion}

Those pirates knew, didn’t they? They knew the whole time and said nothing! They’re responsible! Aren’t they?

Would… would I have believed them?

[Deep inhale(?)] If I ever see their faces again…

{Prolonged Distortion}

[Loud banging. Perhaps metal on metal?]

{Lyfrassir Edda}

Someone’s boarded the ship. I’ve locked myself in the control room. I-I have a gun, but there are only two bullets left and I’m fairly sure there are more than two of them. [Distant muffled shouting; unintelligible.] I’m hoping I can survive long enough to reach Utgard. It’s the closest planet.

[Manic(?) chuckle] Maybe I’ll be rescued!

If anyone finds this, please— [Muffled voices; unintelligible. The voices sound closer.] I know that voice.

_Von Raum._

{Presumed: Von Raum}

[Muffled] Inspector Lyf?! {Presumably referring to “Lyfrassir Edda”.} Is that _you_ in there?!

[Door opening(?)]

INSPECTOR! What a sight for sore eyes you are. The last time I saw you—

[Gunshot] [Lyfrassir Edda(?) panting]

{Lyfrassir Edda}

One bullet down, one bullet left…

[32 sec of cracking and crunching—material unknown]

{Von Raum}

Now, Inspector, that was just ru—

[Von Raum is drowned out by 46 sec of prolonged screaming by Lyfrassir Edda(?)]

{Lyfrassir Edda}

**_HOW?! HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! YOU CAN’T SURVIVE THAT! NO ONE CAN SURVIVE THAT!_ **

{Von Raum}

If you had been paying attention back on Midgard, my dear Inspector, you would know that we’re immortal.

{Lyfrassir Edda}

No. No no no no no no no no [Repetition overlaps as others speak.]

{Von Raum}

Ivy, how long has it been since we last saw our dear Inspector?

{Identified: Ivy}

52 years, 7 months, 26 days, and 37 seconds. {Solar cycle used is unknown.}

{Von Raum}

Half a century and our dear Inspector here hasn’t aged a day! Well, my friends, I think that means we have a new Mechanism!

{Lyfrassir Edda}

That can’t… No, that’s not… The- The computer was wrong! I can’t… I can’t be—!

{Von Raum}

Immortal? Well, dear Inspector, even if the ship is wrong, I’m afraid _Ivy_ here is never wrong. Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in!

{Lyfrassir Edda}

I— [Deep inhale(?)] _No._

[Gunshot]

{Von Raum}

Oh dear. Well I suppose, that’s… Now hold on. Is he—?

[32 sec of cracking and crunching—material unknown]

Ah, wonderful! Now, Inspector, it’s very rude to shoot yourself in the middle of a convers—

[Von Raum is drowned out by 53 sec of prolonged screaming by Lyfrassir Edda(?)]

{Lyfrassir Edda}

**_HOW?! HOW?! I JUST— HOW AM I ALIVE?!_ **

{Von Raum}

You’re one of us! Now come along, Inspector! We have so much to discuss! T-S, mind helping me out with him? We can collect his things after.

{Lyfrassir Edda}

LET ME GO, YOU BASTARDS! UNHAND ME!

{Short Burst Of Distortion}

{End of Audio}


	2. Oh, Inspector!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Captivity

Marius Von Raum was hopelessly infatuated with one Inspector Lyfrassir Edda, with their beautiful locks of crisp white hair, and their shining golden eyes which seemed to always hide a deep dark madness far below the surface, and their short temper which they tried desperately to keep under wraps, and—

_Marius Von Raum had it_ **_bad_ **.

When the Inspector had first come to the Mechanisms to satisfy their own curiosity, Marius had thought they were interesting.

When the Inspector begrudgingly required the expertise of the Mechanisms for some case or another, Marius had decided that they were extremely fun to mess with.

When the Inspector was trying to get information and _begging_ the space pirates not to sing, Marius realized that they were **_exactly his type_ **.

By the time the Inspector had come to ask for help regarding the Bifrost Black Box (current working title for their next album), Marius Von Raum was smitten. But he knew all too well what happened when immortals fell for mortals. Marius was not a fool and he certainly had no intention of getting his heart broken.

When the Mechanisms fled the Yggdrasil system, Marius Von Raum convinced himself that he was _not upset about leaving Lyf to their own devices_ **_at all_ **.

Then, something interesting happened.

Marius Von Raum found Lyfrassir Edda 50 years later, yet seemingly the same age and now immune to bullets. What’s an immortal space pirate to do but bring them on board the Aurora?

Of course, it soon became clear that Lyfrassir Edda spent most of their time avoiding the rest of the Mechanisms, only ever leaving their room to investigate Ivy’s library (when she wasn’t around, of course).

Whenever the two crossed paths, the interaction was always the same.

Marius would ask, “Anything I can do for you today, Inspector?”

And Lyf would always give a swift “No” before Marius could even finish his sentence, before promptly leaving.

This lasted five whole days before Marius Von Raum, _Smart Guy Medic_ , realized that maybe, just maybe, Lyfrassir Edda wasn’t exactly comfortable on a ship where they probably felt like a _goddamn_ **_prisoner_ **.

(Marius spent an afternoon slamming his forehead into a wall for that one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scream at me @artnerdsarah on Instagram and Tumblr
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is always welcome! This applies to chapters even when I forget to say so


	3. Paint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Discussions of trauma and coping mechanisms, mentions of sex  
> Content Bonuses: Me being a sassy lil’ bitch towards my own characters

Marius knocked on Lyf’s door and waited.

The door slid just a crack, through which Marius could see one of their golden eyes (god, their eyes were so pretty) glaring out at him.

“ _ Von Raum. _ ”

Marius grinned a little. “Inspector, I’ve been thinking. We’re approaching our next planetary stop. Would you like to accompany us?”

Lyf narrowed their eye (probably both, but it wasn’t like Marius could see the other one). “I’m not interested in watching any more bloodbaths. Now, if you’re quite finished—”

They moved to slam the door shut, but Marius blocked it with his foot. “Actually, I have another offer for you. Would you like me to get you anything?” That seemed to make Lyf pause.

They opened the door a bit further, revealing their whole face. “What do you mean?”

Marius grinned. “Well, we usually stop at the markets while we’re on a planet. I thought you might want something? Maybe some extra clothes, a sauveniere, some exotic foods perhaps? As long as you don’t tell the others, of course. I have a reputation to maintain.” He punctuated that with a wink.

“Ah…” Lyf nodded. “A razor would be nice.” Marius finally noticed the mess of rough stubble across their jawline—white and disorganized, just like their hair. “And a hairbrush, if possible.”

Marius grinned. “Anything else?”

“Books.”

Marius chuckled at that. “Ivy’s library not doing it for ya?”

Lyf cleared their throat. “Not really, no. I prefer a… different selection.”

Marius nodded. “So, a razor, hairbrush, and a wide selection of exotic books.” When he mentioned the ‘exotic books’, he noticed Lyf’s eyes sparkle for just a moment. ( _ So cute! _ ) “Is that all?”

“Paints.” They slid the door most of the way closed, mumbled a small “thank you”, then closed it all the way.

Okay, so he wasn’t expecting  _ that _ . Still, paints were good. He could do paints.

And probably canvases, too. And brushes, maybe some different  _ kinds _ of paints…

Oh, he was  **_so_ ** going to spoil the Inspector.

…

After about a month of Marius bringing Lyf what they asked for (mostly grooming products, painting supplies, and evermore books), Lyfrassir appeared to soften up to Marius. (Not the other Mechanisms just yet, but definitely to Marius. And they seemed to be less outwardly antagonistic towards the others, so that was a bonus!)

It wasn’t too long until Lyfrassir actually joined them for a meal!

The room was tense and quiet, as Lyf silently entered the room and sat down next to Marius. No one seemed quite willing to break the tension—out of awkwardness or intrigue, it was impossible to tell.

Well then, it would be up to Marius! “So, Jonny’s been gone a while.” He took off his helmet and held it upside down. “Who wants to take bets on what he’s getting up to?”

Gunpowder Tim reached over the table and yanked the helmet away, dropping in some gambling chips. “Depopulating another planet.” Lyf tensed at that.

Marius yanked the helmet back and dropped in some chips of his own. “Maybe he’s finally found someone to shag? Who knows how long his little dry spell’s been going on for!” Marius may or may not have felt a swell of pride when he heard Lyf snort.

Gunpowder Tim held up his hand. “Um, objection?  _ I _ know? We fucked the night before he ran off.”

Marius rolled his eyes, smirk growing. “Then maybe he wanted some  **variety** ~”

The Toy Soldier held up its arm. “I think he met a cat!”

Nastya snorted. “For a  _ month? _ ”

Toy Soldier just repeated, “I think he met a cat!” before reaching across the table and dropping some chips into the helmet.

And so around the table they went, each Mechanism placing a bet.

Nastya bet he was watching a long tragedy unfold before him, Ivy bet he was gathering intel about something (but she would not elaborate), Raphaella bet he already writing their newest album, Ashes bet he was committing  _ a lot  _ of arson, and the Aurora bet he was just lost. (Not that the Aurora could offer any chips, but why not let her bet, right?)

Lyf, of course, abstained from voting.

…

By the second month mark, Marius had grown very curious about what Lyfrassir Edda painted.

But he wasn’t about to invade the Inspector’s privacy. Especially not after they had finally started talking to him!

No.

Marius would just have to shove his curiosity deep down under a thick layer of rationality and leave it alone.

That could work, right?

( _ The answer was no. No, it could not work. _ )

…

Lyfrassir Edda had been gifted two rooms on the Aurora: A small bedroom and a large studio—both of which had previously only housed octokittens, so it wasn’t like anyone would miss the space or even get too curious.

None of the Mechanisms cared about what was inside.

None except Marius Von Raum.

You see, Marius Von Raum had a rare condition known as “Being A Massive Dumb Fuck”. One of the many symptoms of “Being A Massive Dome Fuck” is a complete inability to ignore one’s curiosity, even when that person knows that  _ this is a very bad idea and could end very badly for them HOLY FUCK WHY WOULD YOU EVER THINK THIS IS A GOOD IDEA  _ **_IN THE FIRST PLACE_ ** _. _

That was why Marius Von Raum decided that he  **_really_ ** wanted to see what it was that Lyfrassir Edda painted.

Marius knocked on their door. “Inspector Lyf?”

The door slid open just a crack, revealing a single golden eye. “Yes…?”

“Are you painting?”

“I  _ was _ .”

And in his  _ infinite wisdom _ , Marius said, “Mind if I join you?”

(Oh, what a miracle it was that the gods did not immediately smite him for his hubris.)

They gave him a once over. “I would rather not be the subject of gossip—”

“I won’t tell a soul! Cross my heart, Inspector.” He drew a little ‘x’ over his heart with his finger. “After all, you kept my secret, so I’ll keep yours.”

They slid the door open wider for him to enter. “You better not burst into song.”

“No promises~” Marius strode inside past Lyf, wearing a grin that spread from ear to ear. Then Marius saw the half-finished painting in the center of the studio. “Ah.”

Beautiful colors all blended together, twisting and swirling around and into each other, all together framing what appeared to be a person so mangled in gore and bits of a train that any discernible features were utterly indistinguishable.

Around him, every canvas depicted twisting colors and mangled forms, death and decay, and a very luxurious train.

Lyf slid the door closed again. “What?”

Marius cleared his throat. “This is not what I was expecting.”

Lyf strode across the room to pick up their blush again. “What  _ were _ you expecting? Something  **_cutesy_ ** ? Sorry to disappoint.”

“Weeeeeelll…” Marius held his hands together and took in a deep breath. “I was definitely expecting something I could tease guilt-free.”

Lyf snorted and continued painting. “So you  _ aren’t _ going to mock me?”

“Not…” Marius gulped. “Not for this.”

There was a pause.

“If you wanted to talk about it—”

“ _ No. _ ”

Silence.

Marius picked up the nearest book and sat down. He opened it to the bookmark and started at the top of the page. “I looked at the wickedly sharp blade. ‘What do you mean it wouldn’t harm mortals? How could it not?’ ‘The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the’—”

“ **What are you doing.** ” Marius looked up to see that Lyf had ceased painting and was now glaring directly at him.

“Reading!”

Lyf glared at him. “ _ Why? _ ”

Marius shrugged. “I wanted to entertain you. If singing is still off the cards—”

“It is.”

Marius grinned. “Then I’ll read!”

Lyf took in a deep breath. “Start on the other page, second indent, ‘I put the Riptide back in my pocket.’ That’s where I  _ actually _ left off.” They turned back to their canvas and continued painting.

“Can do, Inspector!” Marius cleared his throat. “I put the Riptide back in my pocket. For the first time, the quest felt real. I was actually leaving…”

Marius continued to read as Lyfrassir Edda continued to paint.

Then it happened again, and again.

Soon, it grew into a routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if the Mechs canonically use any kind of money, so I’m just making a guess and saying that they have gambling chips that they use as a mini form of currency on board the aurora.
> 
> The book Marius was reading was Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lighting Thief, pages 15 and 155 respectively (in my copy). No, I have not read it myself. Yes, I’ve been meaning to for a while.


	4. Concern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Mentions of trauma

“Concern” was not a strong enough word to describe how Martin Blackwood felt, with regards to Jonathan Sims.

Jon had gone into his office one morning, everything totally normal. Then by tea time, Jon was covered head to toe in scars, suddenly had a  _ gun _ and a  _ doppelganger _ (who he just inexplicably clicked with in a way that Jonathan Sims  _ didn’t with other people _ ), started rambling about the future at seemingly random intervals, and basically turned way more erratic than Martin had seen anyone act  **ever** .

For Christ’s sake, Jon had  **kissed Martin on the cheek** **_like it was nothing_ ** , adopted a cat out of  **nowhere** , and was now totally okay with shooting both spiders and  **_THEIR BOSS_ ** .

**_Concern was an understatement._ **

And then, there was the matter of… That morning. February 29th.

Martin started the day with some light research into the Carlos Vittery case. Totally normal, nothing special whatsoever.

Then, Martin brought Jon’s tea at the usual time. Jon had been in the middle of recording something, but he just paused and thanked Martin for the tea with a smile. (Martin still wasn’t quite used to that.)

Then, Martin made an offhand comment about how he was planning to check out Mr. Vittery’s apartment.

Martin had expected an “Oh, thank you Martin”, or maybe a “That sounds wonderful”, or maybe Jon would go back to normal and give a snide “Finally being useful, are we?” Those would all have been reasonable responses.

Jon did not give a reasonable response.

Instead, Jon leapt from his desk chair, grabbed both of Martin’s arms, and begged him not to go to Carlos Vittery’s apartment while holding back tears.

It took quite a few moments for Martin’s brain to fully catch up to the situation. “Uh, Jon?” He gently removed Jon’s hands and began guiding him back to the desk chair. “It’s okay…”

Martin had successfully gotten Jon to sit down by this point, but Jon was still clinging to his hands. “Martin, please, listen to me, you  **_can’t_ ** go there! You—”

“Okay, Jon. It’s okay. I won’t go to Carlos Vittery’s flat.” That’s what Martin _said_. What Martin _thought_ was more along the lines of _‘Is Jon okay?_ ’ and ‘ _Is he mental?_ ’ and ‘ _Should I tell Tim and Sasha about this?_ ’ and ‘ _What the fuck is happening?_ ’

“Promise, Martin?”

“Promise.”

Martin picked up the Colonel, who was sitting just next to Jon’s feet, and placed her in Jon’s lap. Jon started absentmindedly petting her head. “It’s okay. Look, the Colonel’s here, see? Isn’t that nice?”

Jon nodded, still absentmindedly petting the Colonel. She purred and leaned into his hand.

“I’m going to get back to work now, okay Jon?”

He nodded. “Right. I um… I need to finish, um… the…”

“The statement?”

“Right. Right, the statement.”

“Right. Good.”

Martin slowly backed out of the room.

…

“I’m saying it’s  _ weird _ . And I mean, like,  _ Institute weird _ .”

“Look, we don’t know what—”

“Exactly!  _ We don’t know _ what it means, because the two of them are being so  _ fucking secretive _ all the time. It’s weird enough that Jon’s now got some weird spooky psychic powers. Speaking of Jon, you should’ve seen him yesterday! Christ! All I said was ‘Okay, Boss’ and I swear to you he nearly cried.”

“I think they’ve both been through a lot and need some time.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “First of all, Sash, it’s been a month and a half.  _ And I know _ that might not be long, but I think it’s been long enough that they could tell us  **something** . Second, are we just going to  _ ignore _ the fact that there’s a  **_both now?_ ** ” He turned to Martin. “You agree with me, right?”

Martin gulped. “Well, earlier today, I said I was planning to investigate Carlos Vittery’s flat—”

“ _ The Ghost Spider man? _ ”

“Yes, Tim.” Martin cleared his throat. “Well, Jon just kinda… lost it? He just sort of… panicked!”

Sasha crossed her arms. “Look, whatever’s going on, they’ve clearly both been through something deeply traumatic. You can’t expect them to just… Be okay! And I know it’s weird that there’s a them now, but all three of us have seen objectively weirder things while in Research.”

Tim shook his head. “It’s sketchy. I mean, what are they going to do, burn down the archives without telling us? Because I’d bet money that Jonny absolutely would.”

“Um, Tim?” Martin spoke up. “I think that’s the  _ opposite _ of what you do with fire extinguishers.”

“But they have  **_so many!_ ** ”

They were interrupted by the distant sounds of two identical voices shouting at each other.


	5. Prentiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Canon character death (not shown; just implied), self harm

“You’re not listening to me.”

“No,  _ you’re _ not listening to  **_reason!_ ** ” Jonny slammed his fist against the desk, causing the Colonel to jump. “Prentiss is going to attack whether Martin investigates or not! This is the  **ONLY** day that we know exactly where she’ll be and when! Fuck, what have we been collecitng these damn extinguishers for if not this?!”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t  _ prevent— _ ”

“DO YOU REALLY THINK  _ DIPLOMACY _ WILL WORK AGAINST  **_THE HIVE?!_ ** ” Jonny’s eyes were wild with rage. “It doesn’t matter WHAT you say! She’s going to attack the Institute whether we’re ready or not. I say we strike first.” Jonny was panting. “You may be willing to risk the lives of your friends on the whim of a crazy worm lady,  **but I’m not.** ”

Jon began scratching his left arm. “We know when she’s going to attack, and we have up to then to prepare. Besides! We have, what, a dozen fire extinguishers?”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Two dozen fire extinguishers. And I got Elias to switch the fire suppression system out for one that uses CO2.” Jonny dug his nails into the desk, scraping wood.

“Okay,  _ two _ dozen fire extinguishers, a CO2 fire suppression system,  _ and _ we know what time frame we’re working with.”

Jonny growled, eye twitching. “ _ No,  _ **_we don’t._ ** The attack only happened when it did  _ the first time _ because you squashed a spider on the wall. Besides that, perhaps she had a different strategy. For all we know, Martin going to Vittery’s flat threw a wrench in her plan the first time. Maybe we have a lot less time than we think we do.”

The Colonel patted Jon’s nose with her paw before hopping off of the desk to find something more interesting than two grown men shouting at each other.

Jon’s eyes fell. “I just…”

“ **Just. What.** Too squeamish?” Jonny leaned forward so his face was mere inches from Jon’s. “Not like it’d be your first bloo—”

Jon’s fist suddenly collided with Jonny’s face. Jonny stumbled back, now using his hand to prevent blood from dripping out of his nose.

Jon was shaking.

“Well well well.” Jonny wiped some blood away. “Looks like I’ve been rubbing off on you after all.”

Jon took a step back, pulling his fist to his chest. “I— Look, none of them are dead anymore, alright?  _ None! _ Maybe this… Maybe this is a second chance!”

Jonny narrowed his eyes. “Oh. Oh I see.” He licked his teeth. “Let me ask you something,  _ Archivist _ : Do you regret killing  _ them _ ? Or do you just regret  _ knowing you killed _ ?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

Jonny turned on his heel and strode out the door, past a trio of eavesdropping archival assistants.

Jon went back to scratching his left arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck Prentiss and fuck her worms.
> 
> Wow, 5 chapters up in 5 days? I know. Wild


	6. Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Discussions of death (death of friends, spouces, and one’s own self—but not s**cide), trauma, vomit  
> Content Bonuses: POV of one very good cat

“Jon.” Tim had his arms crossed. “I think it’s about time you told us what the hell is actually going on.”

Jon’s gaze drifted from face to face, before finally landing on his feet. “Alright…”

…

The trio sat in silence.

None of them could have possibly anticipated the horror of what they had just heard—of hearing about their own deaths.

None of them had anticipated Jon monologuing through tears, like he was physically incapable of stopping.

None of them had anticipated Jon running away to vomit after he was finally done.

So they just sat in silence.

A long, bitter silence.

Tim was the first to speak up. “So… that’s that.”

Sasha gulped. “Yeah. That, uh… that explains some things.”

Tim licked his lips, rubbing his hands together. “I… uh… was not expecting _this_ to be how I learned the truth about… Well, since he didn’t tell you, uh… My brother, Danny.” Tim cleared his throat.

Martin rubbed the back of his neck. “Jon and I were married… In the _apocalypse_ … And then, I…” His breath became ragged. “I want to prevent that. **_All_ ** of that.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “ ** _All_** of it, Martin?”

Martin blushed, realizing what he had just said. “Sh-Shut up! You know what I mean! All the... Bad stuff, okay?”

Tim leaned back in his chair. “So then what do we do about it?”

Martin stood up, hands clenched into fists. “Well, I’m not letting any of us die!”

Sasha smirked, standing up as well. “You think I’d let either of you two dumabsses get yourselves killed?”

Tim leaned forward in his chair, now grinning. “Now I am _shocked._ Did _the_ Sasha James just _curse?_ ”

“Hmmm Perhaps~”

Martin seemed to remember himself and rubbed one of his arms. “We, uh… We should probably go find Jon. That… That couldn’t have been easy for him.”

Tim finally stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “Careful, Martin. That sounds like a good idea. You know I’m terribly allergic!” Tim winked.

…

There were many things that the Colonel did not understand.

She didn’t understand human language, and thus she had no way of understanding what her human was going through. She didn’t understand what a trash can was, nor what it meant for her beloved human to grip the edges of it, retching over and over again.

She _did_ , however, understand that, for whatever reason, her human was _not okay_.

So, the Colonel did what she did best: be a companion. She trotted right up to her human and nuzzled his thigh.

She didn’t understand what he said, but she did lean into his pettings.

Soon, three other humans joined him.

The Colonel allowed it, purring the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone’s wondering why no one was like “Well, supposedly Martin didn’t die”, weeeeellll that’s because I’ve made the terrible executive decision to say that Future Martin is DEAD. Because I’m an evil bitch! Oh, but if you think THAT’S bad, you have nooooooo idea >;)))))))))))))
> 
> Mini update: I added to the chapter a bit after people pointed out how silly it was for Martin to say how he wanted to prevent “ALL of it” :P


	7. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went from 5 to 7 chapters in one day. Oh boy, looks like I’m impatient to get this out, huh?
> 
> Content Warnings: Discussions of trauma, grief, powerlessness, suggestive humor  
> Content Bonuses: Fluff, Sass, and Apple Grass

It had taken some time for Lyfrassir Edda to feel fully comfortable enough to join the Mechanisms on other worlds. But once they did, they found that exploring the cosmos (while not fleeing for one’s life) was, well,  _ exceptionally fun! _

(They weren’t entirely sure if the Mechanisms were less violent, but they never personally saw any Mechs-related violence since joining the Aurora. Lyfrassir suspected that Marius was the reason.)

Lyfrassir Edda had also made a few discoveries along the way: 1. They quite enjoyed painting alien landscapes (it was rather calming, actually). 2. Marius Von Raum was a very good reader/story teller. 3. Marius Von Raum was, regrettably, excellent company.

Lyfrassir Edda began truly looking forward to their time together, where Marius would read and Lyf would paint and the two could forget everything else that existed.

Like now.

Atop a hill, Lyf had a canvas in their lap, using their brush to guide the paint along, capturing the fiery oranges and pinks of a double sunset over the alien cityscape before them. Behind them, Marius lay in the shade of a very odd fruit tree, using that excellent voice of his to guide them through the latest book they’d picked up.

“ _ Click clack, watch your back. _ Jared jumped, causing his candle to tilt.” Unbeknownst to Lyf, Marius had sat up and was moving closer. “Running wax snuffed the flame.” He was right behind them now. “He stood in the darkness, so scared he could barely move. Something was here, in the room, and it could write!”

Marius then pounced, wrapping his arms around Lyf, causing them to make a wrong slide of the paint.

“AH!” Lyf pulled their brush away from the canvas. “ _ Von Raum! _ ”

Marius let go, grin plastered across his face. “Yes, Inspector?”

“Don’t do that!” They looked down. “Now look what you’ve done. It’s ruined!”

Marius scooted closer and squinted his eyes at the canvas, then back up at the sunset, then back down at the canvas. “How? It looks the same!”

Lyf pouted. “No, the colors are all wrong. This should be a lighter shade of yellow. It’s too orange now.”

Marius blinked at them. “It… Looks perfect.” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What drugs are you on and where can I get some?”

Lyf rolled their eyes. “I…  _ suppose _ the painting is still salvageable.” They went back to painting.

“That’s the spirit!” Marius yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “You know, I could tell a story of my own.”

“Another one of your planet-wide tragedies?”

“Actually, it’s a love story.”

Lyfrassir snorted. “With your track record?”

“Well, it’s still being written.”

“Is it, now?” They hummed a bit. “What’s it about?”

“An inspector and a space pirate.”

Lyf snorted. “Sounds familiar.”

“What? Psssh. This is  **entirely** fictional. Any resemblance to real events is completely coincidental.” Marius cleared his throat. “Now, this space pirate was absolutely  _ smitten _ , you see.” He moved closer. “He tried wooing the inspector with gifts, and songs, and beautifully exotic worlds.”

“Sounds—” They turned their head, only to find that they were looking at Marius’ hand, which was holding a handful of red grass. They took in a deep breath (somewhat annoyed), yet found their senses overwhelmed by the smell of apples. “What…?” They lowered Marius’ hand. “What  _ is _ this?”

Marius grinned at them. “Apple grass! Like it?”

Lyf burst out laughing. “Apple grass?! How completely absurd!”

Marius just kept grinning. “It’s apple grass! Hell, you can even eat it!” He plopped some into his mouth, before wincing and spitting it out. That just made Lyf laugh harder. “Hey, I didn't say it tastes  _ good _ , just that you  _ can _ eat it.”

It took several moments for Lyfrassir Edda to finally calm down, wiping a tear from their eye as they did so. “Von Raum…” They placed a small kiss on his cheek. “I love it.”

Marius held his cheek where Lyf had kissed them. “Does that mean… the pirate succeeded?” He leaned in closer.

Lyf turned their head away. “Not quite… Um…” They cleared their throat. “What if the inspector is weary? After all, a pirate… He…”

“And what if the pirate has been behaving?”

“Von Raum—”

“You can just call me  _ Marius _ , you know.”

They gripped the paintbrush tighter. “You could’ve  _ warned _ people. About the Bifrost! About—!” They whipped their head around to face them. “How many people died?!” There were tears in their eyes again.

Marius scooted back. “Could we, though? Would anyone have listened?”

They frowned. “ _ I _ would have. As much as your whole… singing…  _ thing _ was infuriating to deal with, I still valued your input.”

“Fair. But would you have believed us? Furthermore, would anyone have believed  _ you _ ? We had no proof. And evening assuming people did, do you really think that government of yours could’ve performed a mass exodus?”

Lyf sighed. “You were there for the full 80 years.”

Marius shrugged. “We didn’t  _ know _ for the full 80 years. And by the time we did, we were kind of already in prison.”

Lyfrassir Edda sighed. “Right.”

There was a pause.

“Inspector?”

“Yes, Von Raum?”

“Someone is holding my hand and I’m fairly certain it isn’t you.”

Lyf’s eye twitched. “I don’t think this is an appropriate time for joking around.”

“I’m not joking, Lyf.” Marius nodded his head towards the ground, where his hand was resting. On Marius’ hand was another, pitch black as the void of space.

“Is this the part where you normally run?”

“You know, Inspector? I think it is!”

…

It took four more similar incidents before the pair put together that Lyf could, apparently, control somewhat tangible shadows.

**_Fucking fabulous._ **

(“You know, Inspector, I could think of a few uses for that~”

“Oh, shut up.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Marius was reading was The Spiderwick Chronicles: Book 1, The Field Guide, page 37 (in my copy). That’s actually next on my reading list
> 
> Also! Remember how in the first chapter Lyf said that the shadows were moving? :)))))) There will be other bits of foreshadowing. This is the only one I’m pointing out, though, since I feel like I didn’t draw enough attention to that detail before


	8. The Door Opens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Accidental kidnapping, dehumanization (extremely brief)

Gunpowder Tim was agitated.

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for the Mechanisms to wander off by themselves. Hell, sometimes the Mechs would just ditch a crewmember for a while. But the Mechanisms always found their way back to the Aurora.

The Mechanisms always came back.

So why hadn’t Jonny?

Why had Jonny been gone for so long?

_ The Mechanisms  _ **_never_ ** _ took this long to come back. _

Gunpowder Tim bit into the nail on his thumb.

…

Nightmares were not uncommon for Lyfrassir Edda. They were arguably used to the damn things.

What was uncommon was  _ this nightmare in particular. _

_ They were wandering aimlessly through a cascade of corridors that didn’t make any architectural sense, that never seemed to end, that kept going and going and wouldn’t stop. Constant doors and hallways, distorted mirrors, and the occasional man or woman with hands like spears and laughs like headaches. _

Lyfrassir Edda did not sleep walk. So why were they now in the middle of a lonely hallway of the Aurora?

In front of them was a door.

A door that reminded them too much of the doors from their nightmare.

…

Marius was the first to come running at the sound of Lyfrassir’s screams, followed by Gunpowder Tim and Nastya Rasputina.

Lyf was pressed against one of the walls, trembling like a leaf.

Across from them was a door that definitely hadn’t been there before, through which existed a very strange looking hallway, into a room that definitely shouldn’t exist.

While Marius was distracted with the Inspector and Nastya was distracted with the Aurora, Gunpowder Tim went inside.

…

The Magnus Institute was a weird place.

The Archives was a weird place.

Hell, Martin had even seen some weird shit himself while working in research. And if Jon was to be believed, things were only going to get weirder.

_ Weird was the standard. _

Still, this was not the kind of weird that Martin had expected.

Martin BLackwood, mug in hand, stood in front of a door that definitely wasn't there before, through which a man (who looked like he had taken fashion advice from Jonny) emerged. (And then there was the matter of his eyes, which looked almost  _ mechanical? _ )

The stranger looked Martin up and down, which only made Martin wince. Martin hated people looking at him too long on  _ good _ days, let alone in whatever situation he had found himself in. It didn’t help that this stranger seemed to have spark of danger behind the eyes. Or was it madness?

The stranger stepped closer, prompting Martin to step back, to which the stranger stepped even closer, to which Martin stepped even further back. This dance continued until Martin was backed into a wall.

The silence grew thick.

Martin gulped. He needed to say  **_something_ ** . Right?

“You, uh… come here often?” Martin felt like slapping himself in the face. What was that, a pickup line?

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, since the stranger burst out laughing. “I like you! What’s your name?”

“Uh… Martin. Blackwood. Martin Blackwood.” He was gonna have to make a statement later, wasn’t he?

The stranger smirked. “Martin, huh?” He held a hand out to shake. “They call me Gunpowder Tim.” When Martin didn’t move, ‘Gunpowder Tim’ just grabbed Martin’s hand and shook it with such force that his whole body wobbled. “Now, mind telling me where we are?”

“Uh…” Martin blinked. His brain had yet to restart. “Uh… The… Archives?”

Gunpowder Tim smirked and raised an eyebrow. “An archive, huh? We have an archive on the Aurora. Except  _ ours _ is also a  _ lady _ .”

It was just then that Jon—blessed Jon—came out of his office. Yes! Good! Jon could save him from… whatever this awkward thing that Martin had found himself in was.

Jon gave Gunpowder Tim a look that Martin thought might have been recognition. “Gunpowder Tim?” Definitely recognition. Was that good or bad? “How did  _ you _ get here?”

Gunpowder Tim grinned like a mad man (definitely bad, then) and threw his hands up in the air. “ **JONNY!** ”

Jon gulped. “Well, actually—”

“We’ve been looking all over for you! Well,  _ I _ have. The others haven’t been, but that makes sense. Anyway, I have  _ so much _ to tell you. Marius got a pet! Remember that Midgardian Inspector?” Gunpowder Tim grabbed Jon’s arm and dragged him through the door, despite Jon’s protesting.

It all happened so fast that the door closed behind them and vanished before Martin could even  _ think _ about trying to stop them himself.

So.

Jon was gone.

Martin took in a deep breath as the reality of what the  **FUCK** just happened hit him like a truck traveling at MACH 3.

…

Tim and Sasha were both equally panicked, as was to be expected.

Elias took the news  _ suspiciously _ well (which made sense, given what Jon had previously told them), quickly putting Sasha in charge as the Temporary Head Archivist.

As for Jonny, well, Jonny just silently took the gun from Jon’s desk and left the archives.

So…  _ not  _ **_great._ **

The trio decided they’d share the responsibility of taking care of the Colonel.

…

Marius had to physically carry Lyfrassir Edda to a couch, and even then they could barely sit up without leaning heavily on the medic.

Marius’ mind was racing with questions, none of which had good answers and none of which Lyf could probably handle right now.

At least they were conscious?

“Von Raum…?”

Marius gently lifted their chin. “Yes, Inspector?”

“I feel… faint… I can’t…” They took in a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I can’t  _ feel _ the shadows anymore.”

_ Ah. That could not be good. _


	9. Bloody Guitar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Graphic violence (undescribed), existence of the slaughter, bagpipes  
> Content Bonuses: Jonny being absolutely feral

Jonny had a saying:  _ If you want a good story, go to the bars. _

In other words, bars were the best places to find information when you needed it.

So when Jonny realized he was truly stranded in another universe and his only ride home just took the  _ wrong guy _ , Jonny sought out the bars in the hopes of finding his own way back to the Aurora.

Jonny searched every shady, cramped, secret, back alley bar he could find.

Eventually, he found the shadiest bar yet: The Bloody Guitar.

Jonny had been chatting up the bartender (who he was pretty sure was an avatar of some kind, or at least knew about the fears) when a feeling of dread punched him in the gut. Jonny turned his gaze towards the door and locked eyes, for the briefest moment, with a small, cruel looking man in a brown suit, followed by what appeared to be others carrying instruments.

Jonny whipped his head back around to face the bartender. “Who are those guys?” It was then that Jonny noticed the bartender had what appeared to be hearing aids, which he was currently removing.

“Oh, them? They’re regulars ‘round here. P’rformers.” He put down whatever glass he had been cleaning. “‘Xcuse me. Gotta get som’n’ from the back.”

The wrinkly old bartender went into a back room, making sure the door was open just long enough for him to slip inside. Jonny was just barely able to spot sound-proof foam.

Well, this would surely be promising.

Jonny reached his arm behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka, popped it open with his thumb, and took a swig. He then spun around to turn his full attention back to the band, now setting up on stage.

Jonny was just starting to think about how  _ horrible _ their music must be ( _ what madman puts an electric guitar and a  _ **_bagpipe_ ** _ in the same ensemble? _ ) when they began playing.

**And what beautiful music they played.**

Jonny felt himself overwhelmed with an intense euphoria.

He couldn’t stop himself from dancing.

And dancing a _ nd dancing a _ **_nd dancing aND DANCING—_ **

Nothing.

Then, pain.

His ears rang.

Something wet and sticky matted his hair.

Something wet dripped from his hand.

A thick fog clouded his mind.

His head hurt.

His leg snapped as bone healed itself.

Jonny always hated the regeneration process. It  _ hurt like hell _ . But at least it was quick enough. Within the hour, Jonny could stand. He wasn’t  _ healed _ , per-say, but he was in enough of a state to stand on his own.

His gaze fell upon the carnage around him. He nudged the nearest body. Definitely dead.

Jonny heard the door to the backroom open. As he turned his head to check, he managed to lock eyes with the bartender the second before said bartender started screaming.

Through the corner of his eye, he could see the band finally look up and at him.

He smirked, turning his attention back to the band.

“Bavo, lads!” Bravo!” Jonny let his claps keep in time with his steps towards the stage.

Jonny was very much  _ aware _ of how he looked, covered in blood gore, with several mortal wounds still stitching themselves back together. He loved the fear it inflicted upon people.  _ It was his favorite way to approach prey. _

Jonny’s smirk turned into a wicked grin as he stepped onto the stage. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you all some questions, hm?”

…

“Oh, that was such a lovely dance!”

“Indeed.”

“The Archivist seems quite useful! Don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.”

“Think he can see us?”

“Definitely not.”

“We most  **definitely** need to use him! I’m sure we could make such great use of his skin! Don’t you, dear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that sometimes writing characters with an accent is meant to say “Here, associate these traits with this character”. The bartender’s accent is not one of those cases. I just gave him a bit of an accent because it’s fun
> 
> As always, constructive criticism welcome


	10. Skin and Bone, Rubber and Plastic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Implied murder, kidnapping, flaying (offscreen; don’t look that up), references to racism (extremely brief; none of the characters are racist)  
> For those who don’t know, to “flay” is to remove the skin of something, typically when cooking. So yeah. DO NOT LOOK THAT UP.

Of course, of COURSE they knew nothing! Why would they know ANYTHING?! They were just a bunch of stupid slaughter avatars! Even that bartender was USELESS!

Well, at least Jonny had the cathartic pleasure of being the one to kill the infamous Grifter’s Bone.

Hm… Maybe Gerard Keay would know something?

…

The thing about Elias Bouchard was that he could be very useful, when someone has the means to jerk the guy around like a puppet. That person was, apparently, Jonny d’Ville with his  **very lovely** gun. And, Elias Bouchard was extremely wealthy. Meaning Jonny d’Ville had a very handy cash cow whenever he needed one.

Getting a first class ticket to the states was hardly a challenge.

…

“You mean, like… Lovecraft…? I read some of his stories, once. When I was Gertrude’s… I suppose I was her assistant.”

Jonny’s eye twitched. “You don’t know  **anything** about Yogsothoth, do you?”

Gerry just shrugged. “I know the 14 are pretty similar to Lovecraft’s eldritch gods, but I’ve never once heard of a literal Lovecraftian entity, well,  _ existing _ . I just know the guy was about as prophetic as he was racist. And  _ wrong _ , for that matter.”

Jonny groaned, leaning back in his chair so far it tilted. “Great. So this was fucking useless.” He let out a sigh. “At least killing those hunters was kinda fun.”

“So you did kill them?”

Jonny nodded.

“Great. Then there’s nothing stopping you from burning my page.”

Jonny licked his lips. “No.”

“ _ No? _ ” Gerry narrowed his eyes.

“No. I got nothing useful outta this. So… I’m gonna keep you.”

“Tch. Bastard.”

Jonny just snorted. “That’s what uncounted centuries of space travel will do to ya.”

…

As it turned out, no one Jonny visited knew anything.

He should have expected that, of course, but still, it was quite frustrating to realize you essentially went on a wild goose chase and got nothing out of it. He had no way of getting back home.

Speaking of “home”, Jonny flicked on the light switch to Jon’s flat, where he had taken up residence. But the lights didn’t come on. He tried flicking the switch off and on again, but the light never turned on.

He heard someone whisper around him. “Hello?” Jonny took his gun out of its holster. “ _ Who’s there? _ ”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Archivist!”

Jonny spun around, trying to find the source of the voice which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. “Come out!”

“Oh, dear Archivist! I simply wanted to give you an invitation?”

Jonny growled. “Invitation to  _ what? _ ” He was  **sure** he knew that voice. Female, imposing yet bubbly…  _ Wait _ .

“To be a part of the greatest event in history, of course!”

“Are you—?”

Jon felt something hit him on the back of his head, and everything went dark.

…

Jonny awoke to the feeling of his head throbbing. His wrists were sore. He tried to move them, only to find that they were tied together quite tightly behind his back. No, behind the chair he was in. He could feel the holster on his waist, but it was too light to have held his gun.

Damn. If he lost that gun, he was gonna be  _ pissed _ .

Everything was still black, despite the fact that his eyes were open. He tried to lift his head, but it was still dark.

“Oh, are you finally awake?” That voice again.

Suddenly, whatever was over his eyes was yanked off and he found himself staring at makeup where a face should be.

He tried to speak, but his teeth found a cloth blocking his speech.  _ Just fucking perfect. _

“Hello, Archivist. It’s so nice to have a proper introduction like this!”

…

Jonny did not appreciate having to regenerate after being flayed.  _ Twice _ .

Nikola lifted Jonny’s chin with a knife. “Well, Archivist! I never expected you to be so  **FUN** ! I bet you would make quite the addition to our lovely circus. What do you say?” She tugged the gag away.

Jonny spat at her, hoping to smudge that  _ gaudy _ makeup of hers. “Go to hell, Orsinov. And for the last time,  _ I am not the ar— _ **_MFH!_ ** ” Nikola shoved the gag back into his mouth.

“What a shame. And you made such a beautiful dancer back in the bar. Oh, it was truly SPLENDID!” She ruffled his hair. God, he so desperately wanted to bite her fingers off.

“Now, I’m going to gather some more lotion. Oh, we’re going to make so many beautiful dancers out of you~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. 10 Chapters in one day is enough. I’m gonna call it a day and post more tomorrow, lol :P
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcome
> 
> Come yell at me for that cliffhanger at @artnerdsarah on Instagram and Tumblr


	11. Hilltop Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3

Martin trusted Sasha’s judgement. He knew that she knew what she was doing.

Frankly, she was already doing  _ wonders _ for the archives after just three months. And while Marin didn’t want ever insult Jon or his abilities, Sasha was objectively a better archivist.

Whenever  _ she _ sent Martin to do any follow-up, she made sure to check Jon’s “Future: Avoid At All Cost” notes first and would make him back supplies accordingly. Hell, she never sent him to investigate alone! She always made sure Tim and Martin were together.

Martin  _ trusted _ Sasha’s judgement, and he  _ knew _ that she knew what she was doing.

It’s just that…  _ weeeeellll… _

The theory of trusting Sasha’s judgement and the practice of staring down the abandoned college house at Hilltop Road were two very different stories.

The real trouble was that Jon’s “Future: Avoid At ALl Cost” notes just marked “Hilltop Road” with several large question marks and the words “Web??? Desolation???” next to them, and Sasha wanted to have as much information about what they were up against as she possibly could. Again, in  _ theory _ , he agreed.

As comforting as Tim’s hand in his was, Maritn couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his gut as they entered the building.

Both of them had torches lit.

…

Sasha could feel something in her head.

A cloudy  _ nagging _ sort of sensation.

It guided her through the archives, whispering for her to pick up specific tapes, specific statements, specific books.

Sasha had an idea of what the sensation might be.

…

**_Shit shit shit shIT SHIT!_ **

Why had Tim tried to lift those damn floorboards?

Why were there  _ so many fucking spiders _ under there?!

And why had Martin “I Think The Furry Ones Are Actually Kind Of Cute” Blackwood of all pepple ran in fear, thus separating them?

“MARTIN?!” he continued to shout as he searched up and down the halls of this winding old place. “MARTIN, WHERE DID YOU GO?!”

…

Sasha pulled up a loose floorboard and reached down.

It was too dark to see, but she could  _ feel _ where her hand was.

Dirt, dirt, lots of wet dirt… AHA! A leatherbound notebook!

She pulled it out and opened it up to the first page:  _ “Property of Gertrude Robinson”. _

**Perfect!**

…

Tim opened the door to what might have once been a bedroom and saw Martin standing by a window, staring out. Or maybe down? _ Didn’t matter. _

“Martin! There you are!”

Martin jumped and spun around, now gripping the windowsill behind himself. “T-Tim! There you are.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Tim moved closer and locked arms with Martin. “Come on, we’re getting out of here. Whatever spooky shit’s going on here is  _ not _ worth it. ‘K?”

Martin just nodded. “Yeah. Good idea.”

…

Sasha stared at everything on the desk mute horror.

The Stranger’s Circus was planning the Unknowing.

_ The Stranger’s Circus was planning the Unknowing a year and a half ahead of schedule. _

The Colonel nudged against Sasha’s leg and whined. Sasha picked the Colonel up and held her against her own chest. “Oh, Colonel, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3


	12. Gaslight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Mentions of insanity, (accidental) gaslighting, emotional manipulation, loss of sanity, blood, loneliness, victim blaming (over the gaslighting), hallucinations, crass references to sex
> 
> Once again, I cannot do these topics real justice. I am trying, but I’m also aware of my own limitations
> 
> Content Bonuses: Use of the word “Hmst”, Bertie

Jonathan Sims was most definitely **_not_ ** an immortal space pirate.

Even if he had the memories of one, he most certainly was _not_ one.

Jonathan Sims was a relatively mortal archivist.

He _knew_ this. He had been _over_ this.

Yet despite his best efforts to explain that to the crew of the Aurora, none of them believed that he was anyone but First Mate Jonny d’Ville. It didn’t help that Jonny d’Ville was insane, so the Mechanisms could just chalk this up his “denial” to a bout of Super Insanity.

Jon had been on the ship for three months, and had still not convinced them that he was not the immortal space pirate.

_It was really messing with his head._

…

“ _I_ believe you.”

“You… You do?”

Nastya nodded. “I know Jonny.” She patted his shoulder. “You’re not him.”

…

Jon was still on the Aurora.

He had taken to wearing Jonny’s clothes, which really did not help his case.

But they _were_ too big, which helped settle his mind. A bit.

And there was Nastya, of course. Then again, she was outweighed by, well, just about all of the other Mechanisms.

Jon was starting to lose his resolve.

…

Jon stood in front of a full body mirror in his Jonny’s mirror.

“It’s like the jumping all over again.”

Jon reached up and pulled his hair out of the bun he kept it in. His hair fell to his shoulders. He _really_ looked like Jonny.

Jon ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m Jonathan Sims. I’m the Archivist.”

He started scratching his left arm.

“Aren’t I?”

His reflection wore Jonny’s clothes.

“I’ve _been through this before! HAVEN’T I?!_ ”

His nails began to dig harder into his own skin.

His nails broke skin.

His reflection’s eyes sparkled with the same madness he knew Jonny possessed.

“I’M NOT CRAZY!”

Jon grabbed a hairbrush from a nearby counter and threw it into the **_taunting_ ** reflection. As the mirror shattered, several glass shards sliced through his skin, leaving a dozen shallow cuts. Jon barely felt it.

Jon was panting.

He stared at the few large and broken pieces left in the mirror.

In the broken reflection, he saw a space pirate. “Maybe I am just… Jonny.” He took in several shallow breaths.

He stared at the many tiny broken pieces on the floor.

In the broken reflection, he saw an archivist. “No…”

He fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. “I am Jonathan Sims! I AM!” He gripped his hair, eyes shut. “ **I** **will not forget that!** ”

Jon could hardly breathe. “I miss my friends…”

Jon covered his eyes and began to sob.

…

Gunpowder Tim was getting sick of Jonny’s new… _act_. He’d been missing for four and a half months, then came back acting like some stranger?! Bullshit.

**_Gunpowder Tim wanted his friend back, damnit._ **

So, he decided to do something about it.

That evening (or whatever arbitrary time frame they had decided to call “evening”), Gunpowder Tim deliberately made sure it was just the two of them eating together.

“So, this whole, uh… _archivist_ persona.” Gunpowder Tim draped an arm around Jonny’s shoulders. “Kinda reminds me of a more paranoid Ivy.” He grinned.

Jonny gave him a timid ( _eugh_ ) look. “I—I don’t—”

Gunpowder Tim’s eye twitched. “Hey, Jonny? Cut the bullshit and tell me where you got the character from before I shoot you. Okay?” He squeezed an arm around Jonny for emphasis, while his other hand held up his gun.

Jonny gulped. “It’s not a—”

**BANG.** **_Scream._ **

…

Jon had fallen onto the ground, chair now a few feet away. Jon was clutching his shoulder where Gunpowder Tim had shot him. Blood pooled onto the floor, as Jon simply laid there, curled inwards on himself.

Gunpowder Tim stood over him, still grinning, still holding his smoking gun. “Next one’s going in your head, Jonny~”

Jon gritted his teeth together, as he pushed himself up. Damnit. Guess he would have to go along with it. _Not good._

“From the planet I was stranded on.” Jon could barely talk through the pain. “He was an archivist at a research facility.”

Gunpowder Tim kneeled down in front of Jon. “There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it, Jonny?”

Right.

Just pretend. That… would not help his mental state, would it?

_Jon was so fucked._

…

The next day, Jonny's wound still hadn’t healed.

_Hmst?_

Gunpowder Tim grabbed Jonny by the arm and shoved him into a wall. “Jonny? You’ve healed from _dying_ faster than this. So what. The. Fuck.”

Jonny took in a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know why—”

Gunpowder Tim slammed him into the wall, shoulder first. He shouted in pain. “You’re not…” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not Jonny, are you?”

_Not Jonny_ seemed almost relieved, the **bastard**. He was saying something, but Gunpowder Tim wasn’t paying attention. Instead, Gunpowder Tim was noticing details that should have been obvious before: This stranger was shorter than Jonny. He insisted on wearing glasses. The burn on his left hand was different, and didn't go up higher than his wrist.

Shit. Why hadn’t Tim noticed that before? Was he _that desperate_ to find Jonny again? And if so, **_WHY?!_ **

“RIGHT!” Gunpowder Tim grabbed the stowaway by the arm, lifting him slightly as Tim dragged him along. “Teach you to impersonate a Mechanism!” Good thing this ship had a brig. “And I don’t want to hear a single goddamn word out of you, got it?!”

Tim threw the imposter against the far wall of one of the cells.

“Please, I wasn’t— I tried to—”

“I SAID—!” Gunpowder Tim shot the wall next to the stranger’s head. The stranger covered his ears, shrinking slightly. “NOT. A. GODDAMN WORD!” Gunpowder Tim started laughing. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you live!”

He slammed the metal door shut, leaving the scum alone in the dark.

…

Gunpowder Tim lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling above himself.

“Sure, Jonny’s fun company and even more fun to screw with, but why am I so suddenly **_obsessed_ ** with him?”

Another voice echoed next to him: “I think you know why.”

Gunpowder Tim turned his head to see Bertie sitting in his favorite chair. Tim smirked. “What do _you_ know? You’re _dead_.”

Bertie shook his head. “You know why I’m here.”

Gunpowder Tim rolled his eyes. “Just ‘cuz Jonny and I fuck sometimes—”

Bertie just made a disagreeing noise.

“I can’t be _that desperate_ to get my dick wet.” He sat up. “I’m not a horndog like Jonny!”

“You’re right. You’re not.” Bertie leaned closer. “But that is close.”

Gunpowder Tim picked up a pillow and tossed it at Bertie. It went directly through him. “And I’m **_not_ ** some puppydog like Marius. Got it?!”

“Hm… Are you sure about that?”

Gunpowder Tim rolled onto his side, facing away from Bertie. “I’m going to bed!”

He heard nothing for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: 10 chapters  
> Day 2: 2 chapters, several hours apart.
> 
> Okay, so today has been a little rough for me, and my motivation was randomly sapped, but I’ll probably get more chapters out to you all tomorrow.
> 
> I know this chapter was probably a rough read, so I appreciate you guys sticking around. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Come interact with me @artnerdsarah on instagram & tumblr :3


	13. Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Blood, (undescribed) neck wound, contorting limbs

Ringing and spinning and clouding and distorting.

That was Michael’s world as he bled out onto the floor.

Everything blurred together.

Michael clutched his bleeding his neck.

Michael was left for dead.

_ Michael was not dead. _

Instead, he staggered through corridors, kaleidoscope blood marking his footprints from walking for so long. He had never been tired of his own corridors before. So why now?

A single bullet couldn't possibly—

_ Too much.  _ Too much to think about. Head too fuzzy.

He came to a door. Good.

An out.

He had never wanted an out from his own corridors so desperately before.

He pushed the door open and immediately fell onto his hands and knees.

…

Jonny had finally managed to bite through the gag when a door opened in front of him. Someone fell out. Was that…?

“Michael! You’re…” He noticed all the blood. Ah. “Well, given how I shot you in the neck last time, you seem to be doing quite well!” Jonny smirked and leaned as far forward as he could. “How recent was that for you? Given the amount of blood, I’m betting it  _ just happened _ , right?”

Michael was probably trying to growl, but all he could manage was a weak gurgle of multicolored blood.

“I imagine you’re here to kill me.” Jonny chuckled. “But I’m afraid my crew has already taken the very mortal archivist, so you’re stuck with me.  **The immortal.** And I’d suggest you stay quiet. After, all, you said it yourself: the coffin sings loud, but not loud enough to cover up everything.” Jonny nudged Michael with his foot (which was, thankfully, not tied down). “Then again, given your condition, I doubt you could even scratch  _ Jon _ in this condition. Am I right?”

Michael just coughed up more blood. Were his feet bleeding, too? Weird.

“You know, I  _ might _ be able to help. If you can untie me, of course.”

Michael squinted at him, clearly suspicious. Which he should be! Jonny was totally bullshitting.

But it would seem that his bullshit worked, as Michael crawled (poor thing couldn’t even walk) closer and used his distorted hands to cut the ropes.

_ That was all he needed. _

Jonny stood up and rubbed his wrist. He watched the door closed. “Now, as for you.” Jonny reached down and yanked Michael up by the arm. He could barely stand, just stay practically limp. “I lied.”

Michael glared, but didn’t move to respond.

“Aw, all tuckered out, are we?” Jonny just chuckled. “It’s almost cute.”

Micheal’s eyes began to close. The door began to shift.

“Hm…” Jonny grabbed Michael’s other arm and gripped tight. “I wonder… What if I just… anchor him?” Jonny waited, as the door changed entirely.

Meanwhile, Michael’s limbs twisted, jerked, and contorted back into normal human proportions, accompanied by the sounds of bones snapping.

The door opened.

Helen was standing on the other side.

Jonny moved to carry Michael over his shoulder. “So, you’re the distortion now? How’d that happen? I thought he was, like, avoiding you?”

Helen nodded. “My future self gave me instructions.”

Jonny blinked. “Ah. I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“Nor should you.”

“Right! Well. Mind giving us a lift back to the archives?”

…

Nikola put a hand on her cheek as she gazed down at the empty chair and puddles of blood, multicolor mixing with deep and solid red. “What a pity. I was hoping to make a whole army of lovely skins!”

Grimaldi, on the other hand, threw the chair into the nearest wall, shattering it into pieces. “HOW DID HE GET AWAY?!”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter!” Nikola clapped her hands together. “We still have our lovely two! And really, we only need one. It’s just more fun with more dancers!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE APOLOGIES for not putting this one up!!!


	14. Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Bonuses: Nastya Rasputina being the only Mechanism with a brain

Nastya Rasputina woke up in the engine room to the Aurora talking to her. (Nastya was the only one who could understand her, of course.) The Aurora was worried about Jon and Jonny.

“Yes, I know, I know, but Jonny will find his own way back eventually. I’m sure. He always does. I trust him.”

The Aurora whirred and buzzed.

“Wait, what?”

The Aurora groaned.

“Jon is  **_where?_ ** ”

The Aurora hummed.

“Okay,  _ good _ . But… I’m going, too!”

~~

Lyfrassir Edda wasn’t entirely sure how they found themselves in the brig of the Aurora.

They knew they had just been wandering that morning, and they were fairly sure that the Aurora was guiding them somewhere. (They had recently learned from Nastya that the ship was quite funny like that.)

Lyf had not expected to find a brig (now happy that Marius had not locked them inside), nor had they expected to hear anyone banging on a cement door from  _ the inside _ .

They could hardly even hear it.

**But they had heard it.**

Now imagine their surprise when they saw that the prisoner was this First Mate he had heard so much about (and had spent three months thoroughly avoiding)! “Well. This is…  _ Odd _ . Jonny, d’Ville, correct?”

Jonny(?) had clearly been crying for quite some time. (Had they been locked in this cell all night?) Not the behavior of a ruthlessly sadistic space pirate.“Please. I’m not… You have to believe me! I’m not Jonny! I didn’t— I didn’t mean to trick anyone, I—” His eyes finally seemed to recognize who he was talking to. “Wait, you’re the Inspector, aren’t you?”

“I am. And it appears you’re in need of some assistance.”

“Please.”

Lyfrassir lead this Not Jonny back to their room. They helped him sit down, before sitting across from him. “Now, mind telling me why you were in there at all?”

“Uh… Gunpowder Tim. He thought I was trying to impersonate Jonny. But I’ve been trying to tell everyone this whole time, and—”

Lyf held up their hand. “It’s alright. You came from that… door, correct?  _ Gunpowder Tim _ ,” they always felt so silly saying that name, “pulled you through it.”

“I, um… I-I did, yes. And yes, he did. Pull me through, that is.”

“Right. Can you tell me what that door was? Or where you came from?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I can wait.” Lyfrassir leaned forward. “You can start with your name.”

“Jonathan Sims. The Archivist.”

…

Gunpowder Tim, after having a good night’s sleep to think about it, realized that maybe the stowaway wasn’t exactly as malicious as he had thought. And maybe he was kind of being a dick when he didn’t need to. ( _ This coming from a man who would gleefully slaughter many a Moon Soldier. _ )

He walked down to the brig, scratching behind his ear. (God, he hated admitting when he was wrong.) He slid the door open. “Look, I realize that—”

Ah. He was gone.

“Welp, guess I don’t have to do that.”

Nastya arrived just as he said that, panting. Had she been running? “ _ Tim. Where’s Jon? _ ”

“You mean that stowaway?” Gunpowder Tim shrugged. “Gone.”

Nastya ran a hand through her hair. “ _ Shit. _ Tim, he’s been trying to tell us he’s not Jonny for three months. Why didn’t you listen?!”

Gunpowder Tim shrugged.

“You don’t care at all, do you?”

“I only care about finding the real Jonny.” And with that, Gunpowder Tim walked away.

Nastya took in a deep breath. “ **_Am I the only one on this ship with a brain?_ ** ”

…

Jon let out a soft sigh. “So?”

“I believe you.” They paused. “Mostly because of that,” Lyfrassir said as he gestured to the running tape recorder on the desk between them. “I noticed it appear when you started talking, which seems to corroborate your tale.”

“Ah.” He blinked. “So…” Jon tapped his hands together, unsure of what to do. “That’s been recording?”

Lyf held back a snort. “I thought that much was quite obvious.”

“Well, it’s not surprising.”

Lyf raised an eyebrow. “ _ Isn’t it? _ ”

“You can’t be serious,” Jon scoffed. “You heard everything. About the 14? The Beholding? The  _ tapes _ ?”

“Yes, I did.” Lyf rubbed between his eyes. “I  _ also _ heard you explain how you’re from  _ another reality _ , and how the 14  _ aren’t a part of this one _ . Ergo,” they gestured to the tape recorder again, “ _ that _ shouldn’t be here.”

“No. But… Isn’t that…?” Jon sucked in a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “ _ Does that mean the 14 have power here? _ ”

“You did say that this… Michael character was able to access both realities, and was a part of… which entity was it, again?”

“The Spiral. And yes, he was.”

“Yes. Before the door opened, I had a dream about wandering through corridors that appear to match your description of the distortion.”

“Oh god…” Jon leaned back in his chair. “Have you noticed anything… Else?”

“Yes.” Lyf paused. “I could make it a… statement for you. You claimed that making a statement is easier than just talking. And you said you need those, don’t you? It must have been at least three months since your last one.”

Jon looked down at his hands. “How am I still alive?”

“I imagine the distance between you and this…  _ Beholding _ would weaken its ability to feed on you. That being said, you look like hell.”

Jon took in a deep breath. “You know what happens when you give a statement.”

“Yes.” They growled, voice rising in volume as they spoke. “And I also know that I’ve been having nightmares since the Blax Box was repaired, and apparently now I have 14 more Yogsothoth-like entities to worry about, and I barely understand the Bifrost Incident, and frankly we need all the information we can get!”

Lyfrassir Edda took in a deep breath to calm down. Their voice was much softer now. “So yes, I’m going to tell you everything I know. Seeing as I can completely skip over the Bifrost Incident itself, no need to worry about more of those nightmares.”

“Alright.” Jon cleared his throat. “Statement of Lyfrassir Edda, regarding…?”

“My apparent immortality, newfound powers, and encounter with the Spiral.” Lyfrassir had their hands together. They sat upright.

“Right. Statement taken direct from subject. Statement begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love Nastya. She doesn’t have a major role in this fic, but I fucking love her anyway <3 Her and Jonny with sibling dynamic is God Tier Content, and her caring about Jon is adorable <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome
> 
> Come talk to me @artnerdsarah on instagram and tumblr!


	15. Elias

Elias clicked the tape recorder off.

“So that’s where my archivist went? How inconvenient.”

He had no idea how his tape recorder was able to play a tape from another reality as it was being recorded, but he was not the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. At least now he had the full story.

From his office, Elias Bouchard pondered what he should do next. If his archivist truly was in another universe, then he would need to consider the possibility of finding a replacement.

Jonny d’Ville was out of the question. Too violent, too unpredictable, useless with a filing system, and completely resistant to any and all authority. Elias was rather confident that he was half of Jon’s disobedience problem. That was without even addressing the issue of Jonny’s ever growing… association with the Slaughter.

While Sasha James was indeed competent and a fantastic archivist (arguably better than Jon), she may have been  _ too _ competent. Gertrude Robinson had been an object lesson in allowing his archivists too much agency. Elias Bouchard needed someone he could keep on a leash. Sasha was not that someone.

Timothy Stoker could work. While he wasn’t exactly the best for the role of a head archivist, he could definitely be  _ The Archivist _ . Tim’s background with the Stranger could easily replace Jon’s starting mark, and he possessed that sort of determined curiosity that meant he would gladly march into danger if it meant answers. That was quite the exploitable trait. Then again, Tim had a deeply rooted hidden anger to him that could prove difficult to control.

And then there was Martin Blackwood.  _ Martin. _ Sweet Martin with his friendly smile, warm hugs, and honeyed words. Anxious Martin.  _ Easily underestimated Martin. _ Elias had long since suspected Martin of more cunning than he demonstrated. If Martin just swallowed his pride and picked an entity, he could serve as a dangerous rival. Perhaps one as dangerous as Annabelle Cane. Maybe it would be better to bite the bullet, risk being double crossed, and grab Martin for the Beholding before Martin had the chance to become a bigger threat.

And then there was the matter of Yogsothoth. Could it be used for even more power, or was it too unstable to risk touching it? That had once been the question he had regarding the Beholding. Well, if Yogsothoth did gain access to this universe, then Elias would use the opportunity he was given. If not, then that would be that.

Elias picked up his wine glass and approached the window. He turned his gaze down to the street below. Tim and Martin had returned to the Institute. Good.

He was fairly certain the Eye had given Sasha some important information that he  _ very much _ wanted to hear.


	16. The Circus Plot

Elias entered the Archives just as Tim and Martin were settling in. That’s when Sasha entered from the Archivist’s office, carrying several papers.

Elias adjusted his glasses. “Ah. Good. I’m right on time. I believe Sasha has some rather…  _ pressing _ information to share with us? Speaking of which, I believe we also have a guest.” Elias looked down at his wrist watch. “He should arrive in three… Two…” A door that wasn’t a door before opened itself up. “There we are.”

Jonny d’Ville stepped out, carrying a blond man over his shoulder. He smirked. “What? No fanfare?”

Elias sat down on Sasha’s old desk. “Is that Michael Shelley?”

Sasha clapped her hands together. “Everyone, listen! What I’m about to say is  **really** important.”

Michael moaned over Jonny’s shoulder.

“Oh good! You’re awake.” Jonny unceremoniously dropped Michael on the floor.

Michael moaned as he pushed himself up onto his knees. “Where am I…?” He looked around, eyes widening. “No… No no no no no. I can’t…” He held his totally normal hands up to his face. He stared at them. “How am I?”

“Now, Mikey, mind doing me a favor?” Jonny grinned from ear to ear. “I’m getting tired of carrying him around.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it in front of Michael’s face. “You know Gerry, don’t you?”

Tim piped up, “Gerry as in Gerard Keay?”

Michael’s eyes widened in recognition. “Give me that.” Michael snatched the page out of Jonny’s hand and stood up. Michael wobbled.

Elias glanced at Michael’s feet. Interesting. “You can leave, Michael.”

Michael took in a deep breath, gripped the page in his hand, and left. Elias Knew what was going through his head: The  _ pain _ of being separated from your own god, the confusion of returning to the archives, the frustration and anger that still lingered in his mind—

His thought-probing was cut off when Helen, who up to this point had stayed quiet, cleared her throat. “Well!” She clapped her hands together. “This has been fun, but I’m afraid I have a situation to deal with in the future-past that shouldn’t exist and probably doesn’t. Jonny, I’m sure you remember that.”

“ _ Don’t remind me, Helen. _ ”

Helen waved as the door closed and vanished like it had never existed.

“Well,  _ now that that’s over _ ,” Sasha spoke, thoroughly irritated, “I have news regarding the Unknowing. Especially now that Nikola has Jonny’s  **_skin_ ** —”

“SHE WHAT?!” came the duel voices of Martin and Tim.

Elias’s eyes widened, but for a very different reason. He stood up. “Sasha, how did you know that? Not even  _ I _ knew that.” He thought back to Gertrude, and how long it had taken her to connect to the Beholding. Had it imprinted on her? Did it like her? Was that even  _ possible _ ? “Is this the first time it’s happened?”

“What?”

Jonny snorted and sat down, propping one leg over the other. “Yeah, I’d like to know how  _ you _ knew that.”

“I-I just— It’s what she tried with Jon, and Jon said he was only gone a month while you’ve been traveling for three—”

“I wasn’t their prisoner for all three months—”

“Still! I just deduced— Look, that’s not important!”

Elias was starting to smile. “No, no, Sasha, this is  _ very good _ . You’re showing promise And you’re developing  _ quickly _ !”

Sasha made a noise that appeared to be a mix between a growl and a scream. “THE UNKNOWING IS HAPPENING IN A MONTH!”

Jonny raised an eyebrow. “Pretty soon.”

“EXACTLY!” She crossed her arms and finally fell back into her chair.

Elias took off his glasses to wipe them down with a cloth. “Now, I’m aware that Jon has informed you about how the rituals don’t typically work. But about the skin…” Elias put them back on. “Given that Jon appears to have already been marked by all 14, and Jonny possesses his memories—”

“The Unknowing could work?” It was Martin who had finished his sentence.  _ Interesting _ .

Tim cracked his knuckles. “Well, guess I have a circus to blow up!”

Jonny snorted. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t excited.”

Tim smirked. “I’m not trying to hide it!”

…

Later that evening, Elias received a phone call.

“Elias?” spoke an annoyingly cheery female voice.

“Nikola Orsinov, I presume.”

“Oh what a PERFECT guess Elias!”

Elias rolled his eyes, knowing she couldn’t see him over the phone. (Could she see at all? She didn’t have eyes. Knowing her, probably.) “What is this about?”

“I just wanted to reprimand you for raising such a  _ poorly mannered Archivist! _ He has quite the  _ rude mouth _ , you know!”

Elias sighed. “The man you met is not my Archivist. That was Jonny d’Ville. My archivist, Jonathan Sims, has been missing for the past three months. Sasha James is my  _ temporary _ Archivist.”

“Really? I must say, for not-the-archivist, he sure does have some  **_powerful_ ** skin!”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Well then! I do hope I get to meet your Archivist very soon! Now as fun as this has been, I’m afraid I’m  _ very busy _ . Ta ta!” She hung up.


	17. The Plan

Gunpowder Tim clicked off the tape. He groaned. “Look, I  _ was _ going to let you out. Okay?”

Nastya rubbed her hands together, utterly stunned. Even with everything they had witnessed, she had no idea how to respond. “I…” She looked at Jon. “Jonny is…” She turned to Gunpowder Tim. “Jonny is stuck, isn’t he?”

Tim scoffed. “So? The Inspector can just open the door again.”

Lyf growled. “No, I  _ can’t _ . Weren’t you paying attention? I can barely…  _ Feel _ the shadows, let alone try to open the door again.”

Marius was leaning back against a railing along the wall. “Maybe we could ask Jon? He  _ is _ the google of the group.”

Jon sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I could try? That was mostly due to the… apocalypse that now didn’t happen, but… I’ll try.” Jon closed his eye and focused on Knowing about Lyf. “The spiral used its lingering connection to our reality and… tapped into Lyfrassir’s power to open the door. They’ve… run out. The only way to recharge them is…” His eyes snapped open. “We have to get closer to Yogsothoh.”

Lyf whipped their head around to face Jon. “Absolutely not! Don’t even  _ think _ about bringing us back—!”

Gunpowder Tim pressed the barrel of his gun to Lyfrassir’s forehead. “We’re going back.”

“ _ Tim _ , don’t do this.” Nastya put her hand on Gunpowder Tim’s arm. “I want Jonny back, too, but… The Bifrost…”

Marius stepped forward. “Tim, there’s a  _ reason _ we left the Yggdrasil system!”

Gunpowder Tim shot him a glare. “The Mechanisms always come back. If Jonny needs help getting back to the Aurora,  _ we help him _ . Understand?”

“I’m not letting you do that to them!” Marius stepped between Gunpowder Tim and Lyfrassir Edda.

Gunpowder Tim raised an eyebrow. “You want them to be drained out forever?”

Jon hugged himself. “It’s… Lyfrassir won’t last long on a…  _ dead battery _ , so to speak.”

Lyf sucked in a deep breath. “I’d rather die than return to that  _ thing _ .”

Marius’ eyes fell to the floor. “I…” He turned to Lyfrassir, renewed determination in his eyes. “I refuse to let you die.” He held their hands. “We don’t have to get too close. Just close enough.”

Lyf growled. “I said no!”

“Inspector.” He smiled a weak smile. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I…” They pursed their lips. “ _ Regrettably. _ ” They sucked in a deep breath. “Fine. But we leave at the first sign of trouble.”

“Deal!”

Jon turned to Gunpowder Tim. “How long will it take to reach the Bifrost?”

Gunpowder Tim shrugged. “Two months? It may be sooner, if Yogsothoth has spread—”

“It has,” Jon finished. His eyes glowed slightly. “It’ll take us a month to get there. And, there’s one other thing. I think the Spiral drained them on purpose.” Everyone looked at Jon. “I don’t know  _ why _ ! I can barely know  _ anything _ about the entities without it hurting!”

…

The Archive Crew had just enough time to gather what they needed for the Unknowing. As it turns out, when you’re getting ready for the end of the world, a month is  _ not _ a long time at all. Still, they managed.

The plan was simple.

Tim, with his knowledge of Smirke’s architecture and the circus, would be the one to plant bombs around the wax museum.

Jonny, with Jon’s knowledge of the future, would be able to steer them away from making the wrong choices, and could work as extra muscle (now armed with a dagger in the absence of his favorite gun).

Sasha, with her connection to the eye (albeit weaker than Jon’s would have been), would be able to lead them out of the Unknowing, should they need it.

Elias, with his inability to do anything else, would look after the Colonel and watch from a distance,  _ being completely fucking useless the whole time _ .

Everything would be fine, as long as all went according to plan. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting close to the end :)
> 
> I’m so excited!


	18. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO BIG IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT (for those reading as this is being updated): So apparently I FUCKED EVERYTHING UP, and completely FORGOT to post TWO WHOLE ASS CHAPTERS??? And then two OTHER chapters got posted oUT OF ORDER???
> 
> The chapters in question are:  
> -Chapter 13: “Michael” (never got posted)  
> -Chapter 15: “Elias” (never got posted)  
> -Chapter 16: “The Circus Plot” (was posted as 17)  
> -Chapter 17: “The Plan” (was posted as 16)
> 
> The errors have been FIXED now, and I suggest you go read 13 and 15 (which make 16 make way more sense), and I’d suggest giving 16 & 17 a re-read, if for no other reason than it makes more sense to have that knowledge in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Canon character death (kind of??), discussions of death

Michael Shelley was alone.

Not the type of alone that felt lonely, but the type of lonely that felt calm.

The type of alone in which you can sit in a forest and listen to the birds chirp, the flowing of a nearby stream, the rustling of leaves, and feel the life of nature surrounding you on all sides.

The best kind of alone.

Michael had found out about the upcoming Unknowing, but right now he didn’t care. Either the world would end or it wouldn’t, just like with every ritual.

The Magnus Institute was far away and finally behind him.

_ Michael was free. _

For the first time in a long time, Michael’s mind was finally clear. There were no more fractals, there were no more songs of distant beings of incomprehensible power, there was just his own thoughts.

That was a rather scary notion, and he had spent the past month knowing how to  _ be _ again.

He had spent the past month with a page he was not yet ready to face.

Now, Michael sat under a tree, finally ready to confront his last tie to the past. His final goodbye.

_ The forest would be a lovely place to end. _

Michael pulled a very old page out of his pocket and began to read. The words were sad, full of pain, and painful to read. But soon enough, “And so, Gerard Keay had ended,” spilled from his lips and he was ready.

Michael looked up at Gerry. Gerry looked down at Michael. They smiled.

“You’re looking good.” Gerry smirked. “Didn’t know you  _ could _ go back to being human.”

Michael chuckled. “You’re looking rather good for a dead man.”

Gerry shrugged. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know.” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches. “Good thing I brought these, then.”

Gerry nodded. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael nodded. “Gerry, I know we never got a lot of time to get to know each other, but I wanted to let you know that I do… Admire you.”

“That… That’s… Thank you.”

“Right.” He lit one of the matches. “I’ve never liked fire too much. Too close to the desolation.”

Gerry smirked. “Yeah, well, too bad.”

Michael let the page burn, and Gerard Keay  _ finally _ ended. For good, this time.

Michael wondered how he would like to die. Probably surrounded by nature. He’d spent far too long indoors, after all.

_ The forest would be a lovely place to end. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: No, Michael does not die here & now. I just thought that would be a poetic line to end on and a good bit of parallelism. Also, does it count as character death if it’s a ghost that’s “dying”?
> 
> Side note: He probably found out about the Uknowing through Helen or one of the other avatars, but no one told him about needing all 14 for the ritual to work. Reason being, everyone wants to keep that knowledge to a minimum. It’s dangerous information, you know. Who knows what could happen if another entity’s avatar found out??? ;) Anyway, that detail isn’t too important, so I didn’t really bother elaborating upon it in chapter.
> 
> ~~
> 
> I seriously CAN NOT BELIEVE I screwed up those so badly. OH BOY! Glad I noticed that, though


	19. No Happy Ending In Sight For Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Self harm

One month of travel.

One month of dread.

One month of terror.

One month of suspense.

…

Lyfrassir Edda was silent as the Aurora moved closer and closer to the most dreaded thing they had ever known to exist.

They stared out of the massive glass windows, watching stars pass by.

Space was so dark. Had the never noticed before?

The darkness was terrifying. 

The darkness was so much better than the painfully impossible colors of the Bifrost.

Marius took a step closer and squeezed their hand.

Lyf squeezed back.

“Ready?”

“No.” They took in a deep breath. “And I don’t believe I ever will be.”

In the distance, they could see the tear in space as the dreaded thing expanded at a snail’s pace.

It was slow, but it always moved.

Always expanded.

Always approached.

…

Tim kneeled down and tucked the final bomb under a cabinet.

Tim was trembling, but his hands were steady.

He hadn’t known this much fear since, well, since the last time he had been this close to the circus. Even knowing everything Jon had told them, he couldn’t help the creeping terror that rose up from his gut.

Sasha kneeled down and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her hand was soft. Gentle. Warm.

Tim looked over his shoulder and saw Jonny smile at him.

It felt wrong.

…

Gunpowder Tim furiously polished and repolished and repolished his pistol.

“He’s okay.” Jon had his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You’re worried about him?” He turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “If there’s one thing I know about Jonny, it’s that he knows how to take care of himself.”

Gunpowder Tim glared at Jon. “Think I don’t know that?” He huffed. “Look, I… I don’t normally  _ do this _ , but… I was…  _ wrong _ for taking it out on you. And… I’m…” Gunpowder Tim took in a deep breath. “ _ I’m sorry. _ ”

Jon nodded. “Thank you.” 

“What?” Gunpowder Tim’s glare faltered.

“I don’t… I  _ can’t _ forgive you, at least not now. That… messed with my head in ways I can’t…” Jon shook his head. “But thank you. I… Appreciate it.” Jon started scratching his left arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go… prepare.” Jon left the room.

Gunpowder Tim went back to polishing.

He needed to get Jonny back. He  _ absolutely needed _ to get Jonny back. He knew Jonny was  _ fine _ , so he didn’t know  _ why _ he needed to get Jonny back, but he was  _ absolutely certain that he desperately needed to get Jonny back as soon as— _

Gunpowder Tim turned to the mirror closest to himself. Inside the mirror, he saw Bertie. Gunpowder Tim scoffed. “What do  _ you _ want?”

“You know why you want him back.”

Gunpowder Tim turned away. “Maybe I just don’t want another  _ you _ .”

“I thought you said you  _ knew _ Jonny could take care of himself.”

Gunpowder Tim scoffed. “What?” He turned back to the mirror. “You saying I love that psycho bastard? With his messy ass hair and his… eyes…  _ Shit. _ ” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t— That’s not— I don’t  _ do _ that kind of thing—” He backed up. “ _ No. _ I’m  _ not _ that foolish.”

Bertie stared back at him. “Why not? You have before.” Bertie’s eyes turned to Jonny’s. “Why is it so wrong now, Tim? You know it’s true,” Bertie said as his whole body morphed into Jonny d’Ville’s, “Don’t you? After all, who else would it be?”

“Shut up.”

“You wouldn’t act this way for Ivy, or Ashes, or Nastya, or—”

“SHUT UP!” Gunpowder Tim shot the mirror. Gunpowder Tim shot the mirror five times. His hands were shaking.

“ _ Fuck… _ ”

…

Sasha held her breath as the trio crept down the hall, looking for another exit.

The entrance they had come through was just  _ gone. _

The air felt heavy.

The corridor felt claustrophobic.

Dust danced through the beams of moonlight that were just barely visible through the cracks in the walls.

Sasha heard her heart pounding in her ears.

Sasha felt adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Sasha felt a hand grab her face and yank her backwards, into another hallway.

Sasha tried to scream.

Sasha was not heard.

…

Down in the engine room, Nastya ran her gloved hand along a pipe. “Sh… Don’t worry, dear.”

The Aurora was on edge.

The Aurora was on edge and there was nothing Nastya could do about it, try as she might.

The Mechanisms had run from the Yggdrasil system for a  _ reason _ , and now they were going back. That was… bad.

Nastya knew this could only mean bad news for all of them.

Nastya was on edge.

Nastya was on edge and there was nothing the Aurora could do about it, try as she might.

…

Tim held Sasha’s hand in his.

Her hand was rough. Course. Cold **_._ **

Tim stopped walking and turned to face Sasha.

His voice was quiet. “Sash?”

Tim let go of her hand and took a few steps back.

She looked him in the eye. “Yeah?”

Her eyes seemed different than before. Glassier.

_ There was nothing behind them. _

“Tim…?” It was Jonny, this time. He moved towards Tim, and away from  _ her _ .

Tim took a good, hard, long look at the woman before him.

“What are you?” Tim’s gaze narrowed into a glare. “You’re not Sasha.”

The Thing That Was Not Sasha gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Sasha has a mole mole under her left eye.” Tim’s breath was ragged.

After a few seconds, the thing finally dropped the act and grinned. It was a sickening, toothy, uncanny grin. “Oh, did I miss that?” Her voice was louder than someone trying to keep their location a secret. “How silly of me!” She lifted two fingers to tap just below her left eye. A patch of skin rose into a small lump. “There. Better?”

Jonny grabbed Tim’s wrist and started running.

Tim gave no resistance.

They could hear the thing calling after them. “TIIIIIIIM! JOOOOONY! WHERE’D YOU GO?”

…

“Of course, Annabelle. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Good. Oh, and do be careful, won’t you?” Annabelle Cane’s voice was not particularly soft or particularly sweet, but it was extremely easy to listen to. She had a certain  _ je ne sais quoi _ to her voice that made her  _ just good _ to listen to.

“I’ll do my best, but it’s not exactly  _ easy _ to be careful where I’m going.”

She chuckled. “Then  _ try _ to be careful. Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.”

“Good luck, dear~” Annabelle hung up.

…

Jon held his tape recorder in his shaking left hand.

It was hard to articulate the feeling, but if Jon had to place it, he supposed holding it felt like a lifeline. A connection back home.

Objectively, Jon knew that the fact that the tape recorder was in the here and now was dangerous. If anything, its mere existence was proof of just how bad things could go.

Even still, it was a connection to home.

It was  _ his _ connection to  _ his _ home.

Jon started scratching his left arm.

…

Elias Bouchard sat in his office, hands together.

Elias Bouchard. It was almost funny, in a way, how he could become accustomed to the names he stole in such short amounts of time. Practice, he supposed.

What was the difference between calling himself Elias Bouchard and Jonah Magnus, aside from how other people perceive those names? Really, what  _ was _ in a name? Perhaps Shakespeare had been onto something.

Jonah Magnus would not call himself miserable. Far from it, actually. The life he currently lived was one he was proud of.

Still, he would be lying if he said he had anyone he was  _ truly _ close with. Anyone he truly considered a friend. Jonah Magnus was not a lonely man, but he was a man who was all alone in the world.

Sometimes, he wondered how his life would have turned out if he never became a disciple of the Beholding. If he had never learned about the 14. If he had never met Robert Smirke. Or perhaps, not even such a drastic change in life events was needed to radically alter the course of history. Perhaps, the only change necessary would have been to assist one Barnabas Bennett when he had been asked to.

Jonah Magnus pondered as he awaited the success or failure of the Stranger’s apocalypse.

The Colonel, currently sitting on his desk, hissed at him.

“Why do you hate me, Colonel?”

…

Jonny dragged Tim through corridor after corridor after corridor. If Tim didn’t know any better, he would have suspected that the distortion picked them up.

Tim thought he spotted the glint of Jonny’s gun on his waist. But that couldn’t be it. It must have been the dagger. Jonny didn’t have his gun. Right?

Eventually, they came to an empty room.

It was too big and too dark to see the walls around them.

Tim was shaking.

Tim was panting.

Tim felt sick.

Tim felt a  _ wrongness _ in his gut.

“Tim?” The look Jonny was giving him… It was  _ wrong. _

Tim took a good, hard, long look at the man before him.

He did, indeed, have a gun holster. Not a dagger.

His eyes seemed different than before. Glassier.

_ There was nothing behind his eyes. _

“What’s the matter?” asked The Thing That Was Not Jonny, which was currently grinning at him.

“Where’s Jonny?”

The Thing That Was Not Jonny just laughed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The Thing That Was Not Jonny was grinning the same sickening, toothy, uncanny grin that The Thing That Was Not Sasha had on previously.

The Thing That Was Not Sasha stepped out of the shadows, hands behind its back, still wearing that same sickening, toothy, uncanny grin.

Suddenly, there was a blinding light in Tim’s eyes, causing him to wince. Tim moved to shield his eyes.

_ Spotlights. A stage. _

(Wait, weren’t they in a Wax Museum? Had the Strangers built this room just to be theatrical?)

“Or a Stranger,” spoke a new voice.

A female voice.

An imposing female voice.

The light was soon being blocked by an equally imposing figure: A plastic ringmaster with makeup where a face should be.

…

Marius squeezed Lyfrassir’s hand even tighter. He could feel them shaking. “It’s going to be okay. We won’t get too close. Just close enough.”

“I know.”

Marius rubbed their arm with his free hand. “If things get bad, we leave.”

“I know.”

“You’ll get better from this.”

“I know.” Lyfrassir turned to face him. The pair locked eyes “I’m still scared.”

“I know.”

Marius noticed that Lyfrassir’s eyes were somehow just a bit brighter than usual, and there was something else behind them.

…

Down in the control room, Drumbot Brian kept the ship moving steadily along.

All the lights were on.

His hands were steady, but his heart was not.

…

“So you must be Nikola Orsinov,” Tim snarled, gripping the detonator tighter in his hand. “Where are my friends.” It wasn’t a question.

“Right here, of course!” came Jonny’s voice.

Tim whipped his head around and saw an identical Jonny holding Sasha, covering her mouth and holding her in place. Sasha’s cries were muffled, her struggles subdued. The identical Jonny wore that same sickening, toothy, uncanny grin.

“Confused?” Nikola again. “Skins can make for very useful puppets!”

“Indeed.” That was someone else.

Tim turned around to see a familiar clown holding up a man by his arm. Jonny.  _ The real Jonny. _

Tim sneered. “ **_Grimaldi._ ** ”

The clown scoffed. “Once. A  _ very long time ago. _ Before Orsinov made me. And sometimes even now, for special occasions. Like your brother!”

Tim heard Nikola moved closer from behind, but he spun around and backed up. “GET BACK!” He gripped the detonator in his hand. “ **One wrong move and I blow us all up into smoke!** ”

Nikola just laughed. “You wouldn’t do that! You’d die, too! Besides, you’re too scared.”

Tim snarled. “Scared and holding a detonator. You wanna take that risk?”

Nikola just laughed again. “But your friends are here, too! You wouldn’t kill them just to have some petty revenge.”

“It would save the world. Besides…” Tim wasn’t shaking anymore. “ **_You have no idea what I’m capable of._ ** ”

…

Everyone on the Aurora found a window.

Everyone on the Aurora saw it.

Growing ever nearer was the rainbow inferno, slowly engulfing planets like a black hole.

It was slow.

And it was inevitable.

The Aurora approached.

…

Nikola’s head cracked to the side. “Care for a dance?”

Tim could hear circus music.

_ Shit shit shit OUT OF TIME! _

He gripped the detonator so tight it might break. But it didn’t break.

Nikola placed her feet together and raised her arms above her head.

_ Then everything started to get weird. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More chapters coming TOMORROW, because I’m an evil bitch and I’m making you all wait another day for the climax >:3
> 
> (Also, I need a little break after that clusterfuck involving the chapter screw up, haha)
> 
> Anyway, feel free to scream at me @artnerdsarah on Instagram and tumblr


	20. The Dance Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >:3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Loss of humanity, dehumanization, use of pronoun the “it” to refer to a person (by that person), vague descriptions of violence, lots of blood, stranger-typical weirdness, minor character death
> 
> Note: The sentence structure in this chapter may be hard to read. That is intentional, as the tone I was going for was “Confused And Scared”. Keep that in mind, and don’t feel too bad if you have to re-read anything. Ngl, I had some trouble proofreading this one, lol

_ Lost _ .

That was the first coherent thought from The It That No Longer Knew Anything.

_ Lost. _

_ Lost _ in a place It did not want to be lost in.

Could it speak?

Did It have a mouth?

It didn’t know what a mouth was.

It was  _ Lost _ .

“Hello?!”

Yes, It could speak.

Another voice echoed back. “Hello, Tim!”

“Tim.” It felt that name. That name was familiar to It. “Tim. That’s… Tim. Tim is—”

“Yes, you’re Tim!”

It— _ Tim? _ —rotated around in circles, trying to find the voice. “And who are  _ you? _ ”

The voice distorted, but It somehow believed that the voice was still the same. “I’m Danny—”

“ **SHUT UP!** ”

It knew that name was  _ rage. _

It didn’t remember— It didn’t  _ know _ what a “Danny” was, but It knew “Danny” filled It with  _ rage. _ What had been done to Danny, whatever that had been,  _ filled It with rage. _

“No, really! It’s me! Danny! After all, why else would I have Danny’s skin?”

It growled. “ **I’LL KILL YOU!** ”

It wanted to punch the voice, but It no longer had hands.

Or did It just not know what hands were?

There was a thing that was in a part of Itself that may have once been called a hand.

It tightened that part of Itself that It no longer recognized as a hand around the thing that was not a part of Itself.

Somehow, It was quite sure that the thing that was not a part of Itself was extremely important. It did not want the other voice to get the thing.

“Kill me?” The voice echoed. “How?”

“I… I don’t know!”

Another, different voice spoke. “Of course, you don’t!” It somehow knew this voice was different. “You don’t know anything anymore!”

“And who are  **_you_ ** ?!” It demanded from the new voice.

“Why, I’m… Jon!”

“That’s a lie.”

It didn’t know why, but It knew this was a lie.

“No, really! I’m Jon! Or… Martin! Sure. Call me Martin!”

What was a lie again?

_ Something It couldn’t trust. _

It couldn’t trust what the two voices were saying.

“Get. BACK!” It used a part of Itself to hit one of the voices before it began to move away as fast as it could.

…

Hate, rage, and fear swirled in the gut of Someone who did not quite know what or where their gut was, but they knew that was where their anger came from.

Someone had a weapon of some kind. What was a weapon again?  _ Something that they could use to hurt. _ They didn’t know what the weapon was, with its strange sharpness that seemed to twist and contort while staying perfectly solid and perfectly still. ( _ Was it even changing? Or did they just have no idea what anything was anymore? _ ) Someone didn’t know what it was. Someone knew how to use it anyway.

Someone moved until they were cornered by two things that they thought were them but were  _ not _ them and  _ couldn’t possibly be them _ and were also  _ not right somehow _ , and that made them  _ scared _ and  _ confused _ and  **_angry_ ** .

“What’s wrong, Jonny?”

Someone didn’t recognize the name.

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Jonny?”

Someone growled at the two voices. “SHUT UP!”

“Why, Jonny?”

“Yeah, why, Jonny?”

“It’s just me! Your friend! Gunpowder Tim!”

Someone shook their head. “That’s  **not true!** ”

“And I’m your friend, too! Nastya! Remember?”

Someone growled. “LIARS!”

**_They hated liars._ **

The One That Was Not Gunpowder Tim laughed. Someone didn’t know what a ‘Gunpowder Tim’ was, but they knew that they cared for the ‘Gunpowder Tim’ and knew that they hated The One That Was Not Gunpowder Tim for it.

The One That Was Not Nastya also laughed. Someone didn’t know what a ‘Nastya’ was, but they knew that they cared for the ‘Nastya’ and knew that they hated The One That Was Not Nastya for it.

The laughing mixed into a painfully loud cacophony of noise.

“ **SHUT! UP!** ”

Someone slammed the thing that was sharp into what could have once been the head of The One That Was Not Nastya. Something warm and wet and  _ beautiful _ sprayed into what could have been Someone’s face. Someone didn’t know if they could grin, but if they could then they did.

Someone heard the shrill keening of a vicious laughter.

Someone turned and slammed the sharp thing into The One That Was Not Gunpowder Tim. Another spray of that warm and wet and beautiful substance splashed onto what could have been Someone’s face. They then lifted the sharp thing up and plunged it into the Thing That Was Not Gunpowder Tim.

Over.

_ And over. _

**_And over._ **

**_And over!_ **

**_AND OVER!_ **

Someone turned to face the Thing That Was Not Nastya and plunged the sharp thing into it.

Again.

_ And again. _

**_And again._ **

**_And again!_ **

**_AND AGAIN!_ **

As their vision clouded with that beautiful spray, Someone knew that the laugh was their own.

…

The thing that new itself as “ _ Me _ ” was stumbling.

_ Me _ wasn’t sure if stumbling was possible anymore. How could it be?  _ Me _ was pretty sure that  _ Me _ didn’t have feet, which  _ Me _ was pretty sure were necessary for stumbling.

But if  _ Me _ wasn’t stumbling, than what was  _ Me _ doing?

_ Me _ was moving in erratic, unstable patterns.

There was a face that was not a face in front of  _ Me _ .

_ Me _ saw its mouth that was only a mouth with nothing behind it contort into a thing that made  _ Me _ feel sick. A smile?  _ What was a smile, again? _

“Hello,” said the thing that wasn’t  _ Me _ .

“Who are you?!”  _ Me _ wanted to shout at it, but  _ Me _ had no voice, nor lungs, nor a throat, nor a mouth, nor a tongue, and  _ Me _ was pretty sure those were required for shouting.

“Oh, what’s with the long face? Surely you recognize yourself!” it said to  _ Me _ .

_ Me _ thought  _ Me  _ remembered what  _ Me _ looked like, and  _ Me _ was sure that the thing talking to  _ Me _ looked nothing like  _ Me _ at all. But beyond that,  _ Me _ knew that there could not be two  _ Me _ s.  _ Me _ didn’t know how  _ Me _ knew that, but  _ Me _ did.

“Or at least, I could have been you.”

It moved forward.

_ Me _ moved away.

“I so  **badly** wanted to eat  _ you _ .”

It moved forward.

_ Me _ moved back.

“I could have replaced you!”

It moved forward.

_ Me _ moved back.

“Out of all the people in the Institute,  **_you_ ** would’ve been the most fun.”

It moved forward.

_ Me _ moved back!

_ Me _ ’s ankle that could not be an ankle because ankles did not exist got caught in something, causing  _ Me _ to fall.

_Me_ screamed in a voice so loud and so high that it hurt to scream in it. But _Me_ **_couldn’t_** scream without a voice or lungs or a throat or a mouth or a tongue, but _Me_ screamed **_anyway_** , so _Me_ must have had a voice and lungs and a throat and a mouth and a tongue.

Voices and lungs and throats and mouths and tongues were  _ things _ .

_ Things that existed! _

They belonged to bodies. If  _ Me _ had those, then  _ Me _ must have had a body too!

_ Me _ was a person.

“ _ Me _ ” was a “ _ She _ ”.

_ She _ was of the Magnus Institute.

_ She _ was of the Beholding.

_ She _ was still a human.

**_She was Sasha James!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! That was a rough one. But a bit of a triumphant note to end on, right? If Nastya Rasputina is the only mechanism with a brain cell, than Sasha James is the only one in the Archive Crew that can function.
> 
> Plot twist: That’s the real reason Jonny Sims killed her off. He went “Oh no! She’s too competent! Better put her back in her box”
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcome  
> Come scream at me @artnerdsarah on instagram and tumblr (please)


	21. The Void Sings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Themes of madness, undescribed graphic violence

Lyfrassir Edda felt power begin to swell through them. “It’s working.”

Marius grinned. “It is?!”

“Yes. I can feel it.”

They took in a deep breath in and concentrated everything in their mind on  _ opening the door. _

The door opened.

Marius grinned and turned to Jon, feeling joy bubble in his chest. “There! Is that it?!”

Jon could not feel the same joy. Jon could only stare through the door, at the yielding hallway in mute horror. It wasn’t like before. It looked  _ like flesh. _ “I hear circus music.” Jon took a step closer. He  **Knew** what was through that hallway. “It’s the Unknowing.”

Gunpowder Tim scoffed. “Is that a  _ problem _ ?”

Everyone turned to Lyfrassir Edda, who had now taken several steps away from the window, and away from Marius. They cast a vast shadow on the wall, one far larger than the light should allow.

Lyfrassir Edda began to whisper. The shadow whispered with them. Everyone felt the same dread at those words. “Y’ai, ‘ng’ngah, yog-sothoth h’ee-l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah ogthrod ai’f geb’l-ee’h yog-sothoth ‘nagah’ng ai’y zhro. Y’ai. Y’ai, ‘ng’ngah, yog-sothoth h’ee-l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah ogthrod ai’f geb’l-ee’h yog-sothoth ‘nagah’ng  _ ai’y zhro. _ ”

Marius tried to step closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. The dread in his gut was starting to overtake him. He wanted to throw up.

Lyfrassir Edda’s voice was slowly rising in volume. Their shadow opened a mouth of its own, which shown impossibly bright, as if the rainbow Bifrost was just behind it instead of outside the ship. “ **_Y’ai. Y’ai, Yog-sothoth. Y’ai ‘ng’ngah Yog-sothoth h’ee-l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah_ ** **Ogthrod Ai’f Geb’l-EE’H YOG-SOTHOTH ‘NGAH’NG AI’Y ZHRO.** ”

Lyfrassir Edda was shaking, arms around their stomach, rocking back and forth, and their  **_eyes_ ** . Their  **_EYES!_ **

Their eyes were wide, and behind them wasn’t a madness—behind their eyes were  _ colors _ , the  **_impossible colors_ ** of Yogsothoth, the key and the gate, who is the Bifrost. The impossible colors were starting to drown out Lyfrassir Edda’s golden irises.

Their shadow which seemed to take on a personality of its own was shouting along with them now.

“ **_Y’AI. Y’AI YOG-SOTHOTH. Y’AI ‘NG’NGAH YOG-SOTHOTH H’EE-LGEB F’AI THRODOG UAAAH OGTHROD AI’F GEB’L-EE’H YOG-SOTHOTH ‘NGAH’NG AI’Y ZHRO!_ ** ”

Marius finally overcame his fear and ran to grab Lyfrassir Edda by their arms, trying to shake them back to reality. “LYF?! LYF, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

But it was no use. “ **_Y’AAAAAAAI! Y’AAAAAAAAI! Y’AAAAAAAAAAI!_ ** ” They then dropped their head to whisper, “Y’ai Yog-sothoth.”

They were panting.

All was silent.

Marius squeezed Lyfrassir Edda’s arms. “Lyf…?”

Then Lyf snapped their head yp, eyes wilder than anyone had seen from even the maddest of the Mechanisms. They threw their arms up, knocking Marius back in the process. Their spine craned so far back that their were able to stare at the ceiling without any trouble. Their voice was louder than should have been possible.

“ **THE WALLS OF THE REALITY HAVE TORN APART, TWISTING IN ITS CALL TO YOGSOTHOTH, WHO IS THE BIFROST AND WHOSE DREAD INVOCATION SHALL DRAG THIS REALITY AND ALL THOSE BEYOND INTO THE ROILING NUCLEAR CHAOS OF THE MAD DEMON SULTAN AT THE CENTER OF REALITY! A** **_BILLION_ ** **SCREAMING SQUAMOUS THINGS APPROACH, OOZING AND CRAWLING THROUGH THE SHATTERED TATTERS OF THIS SANE WORLD TO BRING US INTO OBLIVION! ALL THE DOORS ARE OPEN NOW!** ”

They began to laugh a mad laughter, rivaled only by that of their own shadow.

Jon backed up, gripping his chest with one hand, the other clutching his tape recorder.

He was hyperventalating.

Everything around Jon had twisted and warped, his vision blurring as the knowledge of Yog-sothoth, the Key and the Gate and the Bringer of Ultimate Destruction, bombarded his mind from all sides. He could see through the translucent veil of reality itself, and all around him was a cascade of clawing colors and gnashing teeth and blood and gore of impossible magnitude.

It was all too much.

**TOO MUCH!**

Gunpowder Tim turned his gaze to the door, then to Jon who looked like he was going mad, then to the Inspector who had  _ definitely _ gone mad.

He growled and spat on the ground. “We’re leaving.” Even if Tim didn’t like it, Jonny could find his own way back to the Aurora.

Gunpowder Tim ran deeper into the ship to find Drumbot Brian and tell him to turn them THE FUCK around!

Through every hallway, he could see the lights changing to a terrible red and flashing painfully. Sirens blared. Screens glitched and showed horrible cascades of gore.

He passed the engine room, where Nastya clawed at pipes and wires that wrapped around her neck and squeezed. Something had gotten  _ into _ the Aurora. Something had  _ taken over her Aurora! _

Nastya felt her feet lift off of the ground as the wires and tubes she had once help make for her beloved Aurora constrict, restricting her airflow. It wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t breathe at all.

Nastya guessed that if she died here and now, there would be no regeneration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3
> 
> Come scream at me @artnerdsarah on instagram and tumblr (my inbox is open)
> 
> I do appreciate each and every comment <3 <3 <3


	22. Spider Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Implied body horror, use of the pronoun “it” to refer to a person, 
> 
> Some more confusing grammar

Sasha felt a hand grab her wrist and yank her out of what she had been stuck in—loose and broken floor boards. Her ankle was definitely injured, but she could deal with that later.

Right now, she was just so happy to  _ know _ it was her ankle and _ know _ her surroundings  _ and understand again _ .

“Oh, why’d you have to go and ruin the fun like that?” Came the voice that had been taunting her.

“Why wouldn’t I help my friend?” That voice…

“MARTIN?!” Sashas felt joy well up inside of her.

“Thought you’d need a hand!” Martin grinned as he punched the thing that looked nothing like her or even like a human at all. “And some help remembering.”

“What?”

Martin took her hand. “Let’s go!” Martin ran.

Sasha ran with him.

As they ran, she tried again, “What did you do back there?”

“I just helped you remember that you could scream! You did the rest! Do you know where the others are?! Who has the detonator?!”

“It’s Tim! And no, I— Wait!” She stopped and closed her eyes. She could feel the Beholding’s power. “YES! I know where he is!” She turned her head and pointed, now able to see him. “OVER THERE!”

…

It was still  _ Lost. _

It was still  _ Lost _ and  _ Alone _ and  _ Everything Was A Bad Thing _ .

It still gripped the thing It knew was useful in a part of Itself that could have once been a hand but wasn’t because nothing was anything anymore.

Two somethings that weren’t It got closer.

It moved away. “STAY BACK!”

They stopped approaching It. One of them spoke. “Tim, it’s us!”

“Who’s  _ ‘us’ _ ?”

“Martin and Sasha,” the other one said.

It growled at them. “No, you’re  _ NOT! _ ”

“TIM!” The first one shouted. “ **LOOK. AT. ME.** ” She was starting to take shape as a tingling sensation came over It— _ him? _ “ **_What do you see?_ ** ”

He blinked. “I see…” Tim blinked again. Sasha and Martin were there. “My friends.” Tim took in a shuddering breath. “It’s really you!” He ran forward and wrapped his arms around them. “Oh thank god it’s you!” Tim could have cried right then and there.

Sasha patted his back urgently. “Tim, listen! We need to get out of here right now! You still have the detonator?”

Tim pulled off of them. “Yeah, I do. How do we get out of here?”

Sasha held her forehead. “I can’t… I can’t see the exit!”

Martin held out his hand, revealing a small spider hanging off of it by a single web. “I can lead us out. With some help.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “Martin?”

“Hilltop Rode. Now, what are we waiting for?”

Sasha gripped Martin’s arm. “Jonny! What about Jonny?!”

Tim shook his head. “He’s immortal. He’ll be fine. And the longer we stay here, the less chance we have of this working.”

Sasha groaned. “ _ Fine _ .”

Martin grabbed both of their hands, and the trio began to run out—following the spiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Web Martin, anyone? Looks like Elias can’t claim him for the Eye after all >:3


	23. Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Blood, undescribed graphic violence, non-consensual kiss (just a kiss, and it’s very brief)

Jon backed up into something hard.

Wood.

_ Wood! _

**_The door!_ **

Okay, sight wasn’t trustworthy anymore. So Jon shut his eyes tight and felt around the door behind himself, using his hands to find where to go. And once he felt the fleshy insides of the hallway, he ran.

The corridor yielded under his feet in a way that the Distortion’s never had.

The deeper into the tunnel he went, the weaker the pull of Yogsothoth and the stronger the influence of the Stranger’s Unknowing became.

The Stranger was close. That meant that the Eye was close.

Jon locked his mind onto the Beholding and focused exclusively on that, letting it guide him out of the corridor and into the Wax Museum.

He was in a theater now. A theater  _ in _ the Wax Museum. (The Beholding told him it was specifically because Nikola wanted to be extra.)

Jon focused on the Knowing to lead him.

Jonny was there. Jonny was **_nearby_ ** . Good. Jon followed that.

Jonny was in the process of slashing at something that was already hollow and dead. Skin, maybe?  _ Definitely skin _ .

(The Beholding told him that it was Jonny’s skin, and exactly what that had felt like, even though Jon  _ really did not want to know. _ )

Jonny was utterly drenched in blood. He was grinning. His eyes were wild, mad, and full of bloodlust. Jon could  _ feel _ the sickening coil of the Slaughter wrapping around Jonny like ivy around a tree.

“JONNY!” Jonny’s head whipped up and his eyes locked on Jon. “Oh shit.”

Jonny lunged at Jon, who barely dodged a knife to the heart.

“JONNY!” He stumbled back. “ **_TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!_ ** ” Jon felt the Beholding reach into Jonny’s mind, trying to fight off the Slaughter.

“I SEE—!” For one horrifying moment, Jonny’s grin widened.

Jon felt his heart hammering in his chest. Everything stood still.

Then, Jonny’s grin fell. “ _ You. _ ” He was panting. “Jon?”

“Jonny, listen to me. There’s a door.” Jon let the Beholding guide Jonny’s mind. “Go through it.”

Jonny looked around first, then down at the knife. “Where’s my gun?” Jonny looked up. “Nikola took my gun when she kidnapped me. I want it back.”

Jon squinted. “ _Are you_ **_fucking serious right now?_** ”

“It’s a very good gun.”

Jon groaned. “I don’t—” Before he could finish that thought, he Knew. “Hang on.” Jon hurried over to the skins and searched through, wincing. His hand then found the gun. He picked it up and tossed it to Jonny, who caught it. “Now GO! We’re running out of time!”

Jonny winked at Jon, before running through the door.

…

Lyfrassir Edda was still laughing, their shadow seeming to grow and grow by the second. When it had grown too large for the wall, it began to spread onto the ceiling.

ALl of the lights and screens of the Aurora flashed black and red and impossible colors, as the Aurora was pulled into towards the dreaded oblivion of Yogsothoth, the Key and the Gate.

Marius felt a fear he had never before known overtake his mind.

He needed to do something.

He needed to do something  **_now._ **

“Inspector?” Every step towards Lyfrassir Edda took all his force of will.

Lyfrassir Edda ( _ was this even still Lyfrassir Edda? _ ) stopped laughing, rolling their spine up to face Marius once again, their head cocked to the side. “There’s nothing you can do now.” Their shadow echoed their words. “Killing me won’t save your ship and it won’t save your weak reality.”

“Good thing I wasn’t planning on killing you, then.” Marius was mere inches away from them now. “Inspector, I am deeply sorry for this.”

“Oh?” Lyfrassir Edda laughed. “For what?”

“For this.” He grabbed their cheeks and pulled them into a kiss, shutting his eyes tight.

Almost as soon as it started, Lyfrassir slapped Marius off of them with a force that made Marius practically spin. “ _ MARIUS VON RAUM, WHAT THE  _ **_HELL_ ** _ DID YOU DO THAT FOR?! _ ”

Marius turned back to face them. “ **WELCOME BACK LYFRASSIR EDDA!** ” He rubbed his cheek. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t sure how else to snap you out of it. Glad that worked!”

The lights and screens had stopped flashing. The Aurora had stopped moving. Lyf’s impossible shadow was gone.

Lyf was panting. “I’m back?”

At that moment, Jonny ran through the door and fell to his knees, still covered in blood. “What’d I miss?”

…

Gunpowder Tim was looking over Drumbot Brian’s shoulder. “What do you MEAN it won’t respond?!”

Brian kept tugging at the controls, which were currently lightless and unresponsive. “I mean just that! It won’t—” Before he could finish his sentence, the controls lit up again. The lights above them went back to normal. Brian felt himself laugh. “IT’S WORKING!” Brian wasted no time turning the Aurora around and flying them away at top speed.

…

Nastya Rasputina could not breath. Her vision was going dark. She was sure she was going to die and this would be it and she could never tell the Aurora she forgave her and still loved her and—

Suddenly, Nastya fell to her knees. She coughed and heaved, air rushing back into her lungs all at once. “Aurora…?” Her voice was ragged, but still there.

A thick black wire reached down and wiped a tear from Nastya’s cheek. Nastya grinned and wrapped her arms around it. “You’re back!”

…

Jon felt someone grab his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3 We’re not out of the woods yet, folks


	24. Stranger And Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Spoilers for 165, blood, slightly graphic violence (no graphic depictions), canon character death

Jon’s shoulder was grabbed.

He turned his head to see a creature of all distorted limbs and a face he thought might have been Sasha’s until he realized that this thing had different colored skin and the hair was  _ completely different _ and the eyes were  _ all wrong _ . “ **You.** ”

“Do I know you?”

“No.” He slapped it off. “ _ But  _ **_I_ ** _ know  _ **_you_ ** _. _ ”

“You seem to know a bit too much.”

Jon chuckled. “I’m rather known for that.”

“Perhaps I should take you!” the Not Them said.

Jon smirked. “Do you want to know what I’ve done to you before?” Jon allowed the memory of its own death fill its head. Not the context or the Beholding’s apocalypse, of course; just that fear and pain of death, and the knowledge that  _ Jon could and would do it again. _

Jon continued walking.

He then felt his wrist grabbed, and he was yanked onto a stage. He could barely see with so many spotlights in his face, but he could see the shadow of a much taller woman. “ _ Nikola Orsinov. _ ”

“ARCHIVIST!” She clapped her hands together. “I do believe there have been some issues regarding our meeting! But I must say, it’s **wonderful** to finally meet the **real** **you**!”

Jon steadied himself, ready for a fight he knew he couldn’t win. But he didn’t have to. The Unknowing was doomed to fail. Wasn’t it? “Afraid I can’t say the same.”

Nikola might have frowned, if she was physically capable. “You’re just as rude as the other one!”

Jon looked around. “I don’t see Gertrude anywhere. Who’s skin are you using?”

“Why, your double’s, of course!”

Jon frowned. Jonny’s skin? Wait. The things Jonny had been dismembering.

Jon was marked. 

_ Did Jonny count as having been marked, too? _ **_Could the Unknowing Work?_ **

Jon ran a hand through his hair. “No no no no no no… SHIT!”

“Oh, what a dirty mouth you have, Archivist. But that’s alright.”

Jon patted himself down. Did he have anything?  _ No, of course not! _ All he had was the… The tape recorder! Jon pulled it up. Could Elias hear it? He tried to click it on. “Hello? Can anyone— AH!”

Nikola grabbed it away and tossed it into a wall. It shattered. “None of that, now. No. Why don’t we dance, Archivist?”

Nikola lifted Jon into the air, one plastic hand gripping his wrist so tight that it cut off the circulation, and the other snug around his waist as her plastic nails dug into the skin.

All Jon could do was scream as she spun him around.

“Isn’t this dance just  **wonderful** , Archivist? It’s such a  _ shame _ your other friends ran away.” She spun Jon in one last circle before tossing him into a wall. Jon fell to the floor. “Oh well. They’ll soon join us again, once the WORLD is ours!”

He just barely pushed himself up onto his elbows. He coughed up blood and bits of bone.

He had to think of something.

_ Think, _ Jon,  **_THINK!_ ** Could he burn the skins? Jon didn’t have his lighter on him. Would there be one here?

“Oh, why the long face, Archivist? After all, this is a JOYOUS occasion!” Nikola laughed and spun around on one foot.

“Would you  _ please _ hurry up and finish the dance?” Was that Grimaldi’s voice? “This… In between state is not as pleasant for all of  _ us _ as it is for  _ you. _ ” 

Was Nikola pouting at Grimaldi? It was hard to tell, given the lack of face. “Oh, alright!” She turned back to Jon. “Well, it has been very fun, Archivist, but I’m afraid that I have a dance to compl—”

Her words were consumed by fire and smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Climax is over


	25. Happily Ever After

Jon woke up in a hospital bed, very confused and more than a little dazed.

He turned his head to see the face of the man he had once fallen in love with.

Jon smiled. “Martin.” He reached a hand out, which Martin took.

“Good to see you again, Jon. You know, the Colonel misses you.” Martin grinned. “She wouldn’t stop hissing at Elias!”

Jon chuckled a bit. “Someone’s going to have to keep  _ him _ in check now.”

“I guess we’ll all have to help out with that, won’t we?” Martin smirked.

“Right.” Jon sat up and took in a deep breath. “How much did I miss?”

Martin hummed. “Well, I… may be… sort of… Web-aligned now?”

“What.”

“Look, you were gone, and…” Martin sighed. “I didn’t want to do  _ nothing _ , and… I don’t think I’m…  _ enough _ a part of it for it to be a threat. I might be able to turn back? Maybe?” He shrugged. “If not, then we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

Jon nodded. “Right.”

Martin and Jon spent a good few hours filling each other in on everything that had happened.

When they were finally done, Jon squeezed Martin's hand. “Martin, listen. I know… I know we’re not… I know you haven’t experienced everything I have, but—”

“Jon, it’s okay. You don’t need to explain.”

Jon sighed. “You’re still… Even if you didn’t have the same five years I did, you’re still  _ you _ , and I’m…” He paused. “I’m still your boss, aren’t I?”

Martin started chuckling. “Jon, all things considered, I don’t think that  _ really _ matters anymore.” He kissed Jon’s hand. “I love you. Does that answer your question?”

“I um…” Jon felt himself blush. “I didn’t… I didn’t ask a question yet.”

Martin burst out laughing.

“Martin, it wasn’t—” Jon snorted. “It wasn’t  _ that _ funny!  _ It wasn’t even a joke! _ ” Martin kept laughing, and god his laugh was so contagious that Jon couldn’t help laughing along with him.

…

Lyfrassir Edda sat next to Marius Von Raum under a tree and watched a sun set over an alien horizon.

“Von Raum.”

“Yes, my dear Inspector~?” He leaned closer.

Lyf pushed Marius away and turned their head to the side to hide their blush. “ _ Stop that! _ ” They couldn’t hide the joy in their voice.

“You seem to be enjoying it~”

Lyf turned back to face him, now grinning and  _ very frustrated _ about how happy they were. “You’re insufferably good company, you know that?”

Marius’s grin only widened. “I do try~!” There was a pause. “Inspector?”

“Yes,  _ Marius~ _ ?”

Marius Von Raum’s brain shut off. “You— Did you just—?” His cheeks turned bright red. “Wow, my name sounds pretty on your tongue.”

Lyf snorted. “I believe you were going say something,  _ Marius~ _ ” They moved so their arms were pinning him in place. “Well,  _ Marius~ _ ?”

Marius leaned back, pupils suddenly dilated. “I… Uh— Was going to ask if—”

“I’m  _ waiting _ ~”

“Can I kiss you?” he finally blurted out.

Lyf smirked. “You may.” They leaned down, placing their lips against his.

Marius closed his eyes and ran a hand through their soft white hair.

The pair stayed like that for a while, just the two of them.

When they did pull away, Marius laid down and Lyf rolled onto the grass next to him.

There was a pause.

“Hey, Lyf?”

“Yes,  _ Marius? _ ”

Marius had to let his brain reset. “Well, uh… I’ve just been thinking. Have you, uh…” Marius paused, putting an arm around them. “Have you been having any nightmares, lately?”

“Why…?”

“Well, on the tape you and Jon played for us…”

Lyf nodded. “Right. I haven’t had any about what we talked about. Just… the usual Bifrost… and… that whole… ordeal.” Lyf leaned into his shoulder. “May we talk about something else?”

Marius rubbed their shoulder. “Right.” Marius pulled a book out from an interior jacket pocket and opened to the marked page. “Wensleydale, Brian, and Pepper were not thinking quite so coherently. All they were aware of was that they could no more not follow Adam than fly; to try to resist the force marching them forward would simply result in multiply broken legs—” Marius stopped. “Multiply…?”

Lyf started laughing. “Do you need your eyes checked?”

“No, it says right here! ‘Multiply broken legs’! Take a look for yourself!”

Lyf did, and started laughing harder.

Eventually, there was a lull as the two calmed down.

Before Marius continued, they asked, “Hey, Lyf? Do you think you could paint me?”

Lyfrassir Edda just snorted in response.

…

Tim and Sasha sat together on a picnic blanket, sun gracing their faces through the cover of leaves.

Sasha cheered Tim on through giggles as Tim downed an entire bottle of non-alcoholic wine. “Ah!” Tim grinned just after he had finished. “Told ya I could do it!”

Sasha finally burst out laughing.

Tim leaned forward. “Have I successfully woo’d you yet?”

Sasha was still trying to bring her laughter down to giggles as she asked, “Was that what you were trying to do~?”

There was a pause as Tim put down the empty bottle. “Look, Sash, I know we mess around and flirt a lot, but… I…” He took her hand. “I do  _ really _ like you.  _ A lot. _ ”

She blinked. “You mean it? I… It’s hard to tell with you, since you kind of flirt with everyone.”

Tim squeezed her hand in his. “I know. I…” He moved closer. “Sasha, I—!” Tim cut himself off when he felt a pair of lips pressed against his cheek.

“If you’re serious, then yeah. I do.” She placed her finger on his chest. “You  _ better _ be serious.”

Tim interlaced their fingers. “Sasha, have I ever lied to you?”

She grinned. “Suppose not~”

…

The Mechanisms, plus one Lyfrassir Edda (currently holding hands with one Marius Von Raum), all sat around the common room.

On the coffee table was Marius’ helmet, upside down and full of all their chips. (Surrounded, of course, by various bottles of alcohol—whiskies, wines, vodkas, beers, and just about everything in between.)

Gunpowder Tim sat next to Jonny. “ _ So? _ You gonna tell us what you were doing that whole time?”

Jonny smirked and leaned back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “What happens if  _ no one _ guessed correct?”

“Then Jonny should win,” spoke Lyfrassir Edda, who seemed to be quite entertained by this whole ordeal.

Jonny gave them a grin and a wink. “I like the way you think, Inspector.” Jonny picked up a bottle of vodka and popped it open with his thumb. “SO!” He took in a deep breath. “I was displaced in time in space, saw bits of my own future, had the memories of my double from another universe forcibly implanted into my head,  **met** said double, got lost in an infinite maze of corridors with him, wound up  _ in the Bifrost _ ,  **_shot queen Odin—_ ** ”

He took another deep gasp of air, “Got stuck in another universe, shot a man in the arm,  **met a cat** , was hypnotized into participating in a mass murder-suicide in a bar by a  _ murder band _ , met a ghost, got kidnapped by a manequin who proceeded to flay me  _ twice _ , turned a monster back into a human by accident, went crazy while trying to stop an apocalypse, killed two monsters made of my own skin, AND successfully made my way back to the Aurora while a planet was falling apart around me.”

Jonny let out a whistle before downing a huge portion of the vodka bottle. “SO! Anyone able to guess  **_that?_ ** ”

There was silence.

Once again, it was Lyfrassir Edda who spoke up. “I believe it was the Toy Soldier who guessed you had met a cat.”

That caused Jonny to burst out laughing.

Gunpowder Tim let out a frustrated, yet still playful, growl. “Damnit, Jonny! Why’d you have to mention the cat?!”

Jonny patted Tim’s shoulder. “ _ Because it was a very good cat. _ ”

…

In Gunpowder Tim’s opinion, it had taken way too long to finally get Jonny alone.

Of course, Jonny had tried to immediately pull him into a rough kiss, but Tim pulled back. “Wait, ya horndog.”

“What? Not tonight?”

Gunpowder Tim rolled his eyes. “It’s not that. Look, I just…” He groaned. “You better not fucking laugh.”

Jonny smirked. “No promises~”

Tim took in a deep breath. “I want something more…  _ serious _ .”

Jonny raised an eyebrow. “Really?  _ You? _ ”

“ _ Really. _ ” 

Jonny hummed, then shrugged. “Sure. I like ya and I wouldn’t mind that. Now, as much as I’d love to discuss  _ the seriousness _ of it, I haven’t fucked in  _ ages _ , and—”

“Say no more.” Gunpowder Tim collided their lips once more.

…

Later, Jonny found Nastya in the Engine room. “Hey, Nastya? Can we talk about something?”

She lifted her goggles above her head, placing down a blowtorch. “Sure thing, Jonny.”

Jonny sat down on one of the tables. “One of the things I saw in our future was you…  _ leaving. _ ”

Nastya tilted her head to the side. “We do that all the time. Well, I don’t typically, but—”

“For good.”

Nastya blinked. “Oh.”

Jonny nodded. “In my… Maybe not the future memory, you said it was because… There was only one piece of the Aurora left, after we… Added to her?”

Nastya’s eyes widened in horror.

“I don’t want that…” Jonny took in a deep breath. “I’ll talk to the others about not screwing with the Aurora so much, k?”

“Jonny…” Her eyes welled up with tears. “ _ Thank you. _ ”

The Aurora hummed around them.

“And uh…” Jonny took in a deep breath. “Having my brain scrambled together with someone else’s, it… Changed me? And… I realized… You’re like a sister to me, and I don’t… I don’t  _ say that _ enough.”

Nastya got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Jonny. “I know. I love you like a brother.”

Jonny wrapped his arms around Nastya and squeezed.

…

Jon had taken some time to recover, but soon enough he was back in the archives.

Tim, Sasha, and Martin had all been waiting for him.

The four of them were able to hold themselves together for about, ooohhh, 5 seconds before they were all hugging through happy tears.

“God, I missed you all!”

Martin squeezed the tightest and lifted all of them up for a moment, causing everyone to laugh.

This was interrupted by Elias, clearing his throat in the doorway.

The four separated themselves. “ _ Jonah Magnus? _ ” Jon was glaring. God, he didn’t have the patience for  _ him _ right now.

Elias walked in, carrying the Colonel by the scruff at arm’s length. “I believe this is yours?”

Jon’s eyes light up. “COLONEL!” Jon ran forward and scooped the kitty into his arms. She started licking his cheek. “Yes, yes, I love you, too.” He then went back to glaring at Elias, who promptly left.

Jon turned back to the trio. “It’s good to be back.”

Sasha grinned at him. “It’s good to have you back.” She hummed. “Even if it means I lose my promotion.”

Jon laughed for a bit, before stopping. “Look.” He let the Colonel down.

She walked over to Tim, who immediately picked her up.

Jon lightly scratched his left arm. “This… This probably won’t be the end. There are a dozen more avatars out there, many of whom have grudges against the institute. And I’m still… whatever the hell I am  _ now _ .”

Martin took Jon’s hand. “Whatever happens now, we’ll face it together.”

Tim’s grin was like a beam of sunshine. “Yeah! We can take on the world!”

“We’re unstoppable!” came Sasha.

Jon couldn’t help but grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Marius was reading was “Good Omens”, pages 211 and 212 in my copy. And yes, my copy does have that typo. I have been... halfway through that book for quite a while now. Don’t @ me about it
> 
> We love a good cat <3
> 
> Come talk to me @artnerdsarah on Instagram and Tumblr


	26. Or Is It...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Harm comes to the Colonel (it’s accidental)
> 
> This chapter is optional for individual readers. It comes after “Chapter 25: Happily Ever After” and in my mind this is the true ending. You can decide if you want it to happen in your headcanon-version of events or not. But regardless, you should still totally read it >:3 Y’all are gonna HATE ME for this one

Jonny d’Ville loved violence, but he had never really  _ craved _ it before. He had never  _ hungered _ for bloodshed in the same way that Jonathan Sims  _ hungered _ for statements.

Until now.

_ Jonny d’Ville wanted violence. _

**_Jonny d’Ville craved bloodshed._ **

**_JONNY D’VILLE HUNGERED FOR A SLAUGHTER._ **

…

Every night, Lyfrassir Edda heard Yogsothoth singing to them.

Every night, they tried to ignore it.

_ But it was so beautiful. _

…

Jon sat in his office chair with the Colonel in his lap. He had a few statements prepared and a tape recorder ready. After all, he was still the Archivist, and he did still still need to feed.

Jon picked up one of the pages and clicked on the tape recorder. “Statement of…” Jon squinted at the page. “Statement of Joe Spooky? What on earth?” He put the page down. “TIM? TIM, DID YOU PUT THIS IN HERE?” There was no response.

Jon chuckled. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in indulging in a joke statement. Just this once.” He cleared his throat. “Statement of  _ Joe Spooky _ regarding  **_sinister happenings._ ** ” Jon chuckled softly to himself.

He took in a deep breath.

“Hello Jon.” His heart sank into his gut. “Terribly sorry for this deception, but you see I very much needed this.” It was too late. “Oh! Yes, I should introduce myself. The name’s Annabelle Cane.”  _ Jon was all alone and he couldn’t stop. _ “I believe you’ve met me in the future. Or past future? Oh, that doesn’t matter.”

The tape recorder started hissing loudly.

The Colonel started hissing loudly.

Jon  _ Knew _ that a door had opened up behind himself.

Jon  _ Knew _ that Yogsothoth, the Key and the Gate, was  **_right through that door_ ** .

Jon kept reading.

“I employed the help of our dear Martin to assist me in stopping the Unknowing. An apocalypse run by the Stranger is, I’m afraid, not one I wish to be a part of. But the Eye? Now  _ that _ is more useful to me.”

Jon felt the words being pulled out of his throat.  **_He couldn’t stop._ **

“I believe Jonny forgot to close the door, yes? I’m not sure what Yogsothoth can do, but perhaps if the 14 are closer than its power would be…more easily tamed. Or perhaps, the 14 would just act as a barrier to prevent it from devastating our world. If I can,  _ I want that time travel power _ . Quite useful, don’t you think? I suppose I could have forced you into a web ritual, but the Eye is, well… It’s simply passive. Besides, the Web always wins.”

_ Where were the others? _ Jon Knew Tim was out on a break, Sasha was double checking some information with Research, and Martin was following up on a statement.  _ None of them would come back in time. _

“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure your friends are nice and taken care of. And no, Martin had no idea I was planning this when I recruited him.”

The Colonel was meowing and hissing louder than he had ever heard her do so.

“Now, Jon, repeat after me. I’m sure you know the words.”

The Colonel jumped up onto the desk and whined.

Jon wanted to help her.

Jon wanted to  **_stop READING!_ **

But he couldn’t.

“ _ You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right. _ ”

Jon could feel a wave of familiar power wash over him.

“ **Come to us in your wholeness.** ”

Jon felt wind surround him, even though he was inside.

“ **_Come to us in your power._ ** ”

Jon saw colors begin to crawl out from behind himself.

_ He couldn’t close the door. _

“ _ Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and leads and  _ **_dies_ ** _! _ ”

Jon felt the dread of Yogsothoth’s screaming squamous oozing crawling colors pushed back, subdued by the force of his words.  _ Not like that was any comfort. _

“ **_Come to us._ ** ”

Jon could hear Tim, who had just returned from his lunch break, just outside his office door. He could hear Tim knocking and trying to get inside.

_ But it was too late. _

“ **_I— OPEN—_ ** **_THE DOOR_ ** **_!_ ** ”

Jon felt a gust of wind blow everything back—making even the poor Colonel hit the far wall—and suddenly everything went black.

…

Jon came to when he felt a hand slap him across the face. “AH!” Jon sat up and looked around. The archives were gone. Or were they? He was definitely outside.

The Colonel was biting his shirt, tugging. Tim was there.

Jon looked up. “Oh… God…”

Tim gripped his arms. “Jon?”

Jon started crying. “Look at the sky, Tim… Look at the  _ sky. _ ” Above them, a thousand rainbow clouds surrounded a massive eye with an iris made of colors that shouldn’t exist. It stared directly at Jon. “ _ It’s looking back. _ ”

He turned his gaze back to Tim, who had panic in his eyes.

“Jon,  **_what the hell is happening?!_ ** ”

“They’re all here now. All 14. And  _ more _ .”

Jon’s face fell into Tim’s chest, where his manic laughter turned into sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How appropriate is it that I’m posting this today, on the day that 160 was uploaded to YouTube? I hadn’t planned that, but once 24 was up and I realized how good that would be, I decided I had to get 25 and 26 out today. >:3
> 
> No, I won’t be making another continuation. This is how I want to end it
> 
> Feel free to scream at me @artnerdsarah on Instagram and Tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> Go scream at me at @artnerdsarah on instagram and tumblr


End file.
